


What Goodbye Means

by Dreamer_88



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_88/pseuds/Dreamer_88
Summary: Do you just need some time?Maybe take one more night to think it through?I hope it's not hopelessAnd you might come back to meI don't want to let goCause I know what goodbye means
Relationships: Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani
Comments: 62
Kudos: 93





	1. Where our paths crossed

**Author's Note:**

> A new one. This chapter might leave you with some questions, but the next one will make it perfectly clear where this story is headed. I can't wait to share more with you guys. As always, thanks for reading.

The weather had been unforgiving for weeks now, something unexpected from the usual soft and summery California sun. The leafs had been ripped from their branches, backyards dishevelled and tarnished, and her clothes soaked through before reaching the front door more than once. 

Gwen's grateful for her internship being remote. She doesn't leave the house often, subjecting her to the excessive teasing of her best friend Chelsea. Sometimes she thinks her friend might be a little jealous as she's still working the bar she doesn't quite like, while Gwen finished her study last year and has been dipping her toe in the fashion business ever since. 

The storm raging outside makes her that much more grateful that she isn't, feet pulled onto the couch and her laptop resting on her lap. She's barefoot and her hair is flowing freely down her shoulders as she finishes the rapport on the company's latest expenses. It reminds her she still has a long way to go before she can truly say she's working in fashion; doing the company's administrative hassles is not exactly what she had in mind when she finished her designer study, but she had been too excited to care when _Alexandria's Headquarters_ approached her with a paid internship opportunity.

With her study just behind her at twenty-five, it was definitely not the worst position to be in.

Gwen looks up when Chelsea cusses under her breath, phone pressed against her ear as she plops down on the pink and fluffy seat-cushion. She bites her lip when her friend fires off a list of complaints to the customer's service employee on the other end of the line. For how often Chelsea complains about her bartender's salary, she orders more shoes than Gwen has even _seen_ \-- and that's saying a lot.

Chelsea huffs, throwing the phone on the coffee table. 

"Everything okay?" Gwen smiles. 

"No, everything is _not_ okay." She grumbles, annoyed. "They pushed back my order again. I might as well just get a refund now since I've been waiting for _weeks_."

"The problems you face..." Gwen murmurs, sarcastically. 

Her comment earns her a bitter scoff from her friend. 

"We don't all get sent fashionable items from our bosses, Gwen. Some of us have to actually go through the hassle of shopping online."

Gwen rolls her eyes in response. "That happened once."

"Once more than it happened to me." Chelsea retorts, hanging back and closing her eyes.

As much as she likes to banter back and forth with her friend, she can tell Chelsea is genuinely tired and frustrated. She knows she's been working long shifts to get by; their rent not exactly cheap and Gwen already took most of the burden twice before.

"Hey, I have something you might be interested in." Gwen says, suddenly. 

Chelsea's head perks up. "What is it?"

"Some of my colleagues asked me to join them to a bar tonight." She sighs, unable to believe she's really about to do this. She already had her words ready to cancel, but knowing Chelsea would get the biggest kick out of it, she reconsiders on the spot. "I was thinking maybe I should go? You could come with me if you want..."

"You're going OUT?" Chelsea nearly shouts, energized by the news just like Gwen thought she would. "Is the world ending? Did I fall asleep and wake up in an alternative universe?"

"Chelsea." Gwen sighs, yet she can't keep the slight grin off her face. 

"You're going." Her friend states, clapping her hands once as it's decided. "Do you know what you're wearing?"

"To a bar?" Gwen questions, shrugging. "I don't know, I guess I could wear that dress we bought the other day. It's not too classy but not trashy either."

Chelsea shakes her head. 

"No, we need to get you into something slutty." 

Gwen chuckles, shaking her head. "No, we don't."

"Gwen, you haven't had any action in _eight_ months." Chelsea lets the words escape her mouth as if they're poisonous. "You're going out and you're getting laid."

Gwen's already deeply regretting her decision of even saying yes to the night out, just to cheer up her friend.

"I'm happy just the way things are." She says, closing her laptop as she's unable to focus on anything else. "Why do we always need a guy to come in and disrupt the peace?"

"I'm talking about getting your brains screwed out, not marriage." 

Gwen groans. "The way you talk sometimes makes me want it even less."

"Oh I forgot, you're a good girl." She snorts, shaking her head. " _Make love_ then, Gwen. Cuddle and kiss the night away, or whatever it is you do. Just don't forget to put some condoms in that custom-made purse of yours."

"You're absolutely awful." Gwen laughs, throwing her head back. 

"Yeah, but you love me." 

Gwen can't even respond before her friend is jumping up, tugging her off the couch. 

"Where are we going?" Gwen asks, letting herself be led out of the living room. 

"To your room." Chelsea informs her. "We're picking out an outfit and you're going to have a good time tonight."

"Are you not coming with me?" Gwen asks surprised. 

"I've worked two nightshifts in a row. I'm surprised I'm even awake right now. I'll have to sit this one out." She says, regretfully. "So you better make this one count, Gwen. You're partying for two this time."

\--

Once inside, her colleagues had all scattered and she found herself alone at the bar.

She's not necessarily surprised, her social interactions with these people have been extremely limited. When she's in the office, she's secluded from the actual designers and marketing employees. Since her internship is more about the behind the scenes of the company, she's not mandated to come in every day. She can do her duties from home, which had been nice for these last few months after she and Chelsea moved into a bigger apartment together. She does hope the internship leads to actual employment once they believe she made up for her lack of experience in the field.

Sitting at the bar, she wishes she could melt into the vibe of the place completely, moving around as easily as the men and women around her did. Though it's supposed to be lowkey, everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high-end suits and expensive dresses. Everyone here seems to be born to stand out, and the only thing that reminds her of this being an actual bar is the bartender and the delicious whiskeys he pours.

She pushes her hair over one shoulder, over her tight black dress. This is not her scene, but she'll be damned if she goes out like this. She purses her red lips a little, ordering another drink and praying she'll soon at least be buzzed enough to socialize.

"Gwen!" Her name being called out causes her to look behind her. Her colleague, who's name she remembers to be Calle, comes hurrying closer. "You came." 

Gwen wants to roll her eyes since she met with all her colleagues outside of this place when she first arrived and the girl obviously already forget about her. 

"Yeah, thank you for inviting me." She says instead, forcing a smile on her lips. Something that's much easier to do now she's a few drinks in. 

"Of course. This place is so awesome. We go here all the time; it's a bar, but it's really not. I like to call it more of an _elites_ ’ lounge, if you know what I mean."

Gwen feels the urge to throw her drink right back up, silently cussing out Chelsea for making her go. 

"I've never been here before." Gwen says, keeping her voice neutral. 

"Oh, that's okay, you'll come back a bunch of times now, I'm sure." Calle speaks, obliviously. "Anyway, have you seen that guy basically eye-fucking you from across the room?" 

Gwen nearly chokes on her drink, the sentiment sounding so crazy, her first instinct is to shake her head and tell her colleague she's crazy.

"W-what?"

She nudges her head to the right. "Fitted jeans and leather jacket at 3 'o clock." 

Gwen is unable to ignore it, her head turning to the side to lock eyes with the man who's indeed looking at her. She's surprised when he pretends to tip his non-existent hat to her, not even pretending to mind he got caught staring. It's something about the casualty in which he manoeuvres through the situation and goes back to his drink as if nothing happened, that appeals to her. Not to mention the fact that he looks as out of place as she feels. 

"There's something about him, but I can't put my finger on it." Calle speaks again, her voice loud in Gwen's ears. "He's hot but he definitely isn't from here. He kinda stands out like a sore thumb, doesn't he?"

With every word the woman speaks, the less Gwen likes her. 

She turns her gaze back to the bar top, wrapping her manicured fingers around the glass. 

"I think he was just looking around, not necessarily _at_ me." Gwen murmurs, not quite understanding why that makes her feel so incredibly disappointed. "I'm good here though, I just want to enjoy my drink and call it a night."

"This early?" Calle expresses, judgmentally.

" _Yeah_." 

Normally, she'd be feeling bad about being so short with someone, but her colleague has a way of pressing every unappreciated button.

"Suit yourself." She says next. "Nice talking to you, Gwen."

She doesn't know if it's sincere or meant to be sarcastic, but Gwen decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. She might be annoyed, but she'd never be mean.

"You too, Calle."

The girl walks off, not shooting her another look and Gwen exhales softly. Her drink is now almost gone and she's trying to get the bartender's attention when a low voice next to her demands hers first. 

"I might be wrong, but I think we have something in common." 

Her head snaps to the right, her eyes staring down into the bluest ones she's ever seen. It takes her no time to recognize him, his proximity almost maddening. His cologne hits her nostrils, making her breath hitch. There's something about this man, she knew it from the moment they locked eyes across the room, and it's only being confirmed now. 

She clears her throat.

"Uhm, _yeah_? What would that be?"

He smiles. "We both hate this place."

She stares at his hand, his fingers long and his hold strong around his glass. She needs to get a grip and fast.

"You're right." She admits, stifling a chuckle. 

"Means you have great taste." He offers her friendly, taking a sip of his drink and finishing it. 

Even when he's not looking at her, simply sitting beside her, she can't get her breathing quite under control. It's not like her at all and she fidgets at the bar top with her finger, trying to distract herself from the unfamiliar sensations coursing through her.

"I....eh, thanks."

He chuckles.

"I _was_ looking at you earlier, by the way. You know that, right?"

The words direct her gaze back to him, as she can't help but letting a small victory smile grace her features. He really did seek her out of the crowd. His stare wasn't an accident.

"Why?"

He looks confused, still smiling though. 

"Why, _what_?"

"Why were you staring?" She asks, innocently. 

"You're quite a sight to behold." 

She snorts. "How many women have you told that line?"

He doesn't seem offended by her question, quite the contrary actually.

"Tonight?" He smirks. "Just you."

He doesn't care about what other people think of him, that much is clear, and Gwen knows it's something she's both envious and attracted to. She can tell he's trying to make her laugh though, even when he's being totally himself. She appreciates that too. 

"At least you're not a liar."

"You can call me a lot of things." He agrees. "But a liar ain't one of 'em." 

It's the first time she recognizes his thick accent, accentuating the fact that he's not from here. 

She swallows roughly, her mind going a thousand miles per hour. This is Chelsea's wheelhouse, not hers. She doesn't even remember how to flirt properly. 

"What are ya thinking so hard about, sweetheart?"

His words surprise her, but they give her the momentarily confidence to say what's on her mind without any preamble. 

"I'm thinking about how we're about to do the introducing part and then try to small talk or get down to the nitty gritty, and I'm not sure I can do that." 

He smiles as if he understands, and she truly doubts he does. 

"Let's not do any of that, then." He says, his gaze taking her in. "I don't need your name. I just want a little bit of your time. Tell me, that something you can do?"

"I'm not that interesting." She tells him. 

"Now who's the liar?" He calls her out with a smile. "No one who's hesitant about giving her name, has nothing interesting to offer."

"I might've just gotten your hopes up for nothing." She laughs quietly. 

He looks at her intensely and she wonders if it's possible to fall in love with a set of eyes. Her throat dries as she wishes so badly he would speak the words she never would. 

He bites his lip, leaning his forearm on the bar in front of him.

"You wanna stay here?" He asks. 

Her breathing speeds up, the truth spilling off her lips quickly but quietly. 

"No."

"Can I take you somewhere?" He whispers, darkly.

"Tell me." She speaks the same words he'd spoken to her earlier, her heart hammering loudly in her ears. "What would happen if I say yes to that?"

He leans a little closer to her, his lips hovering against her ear. 

"Say it." He exhales against the shell of her ear, wickedness taking a hold of his smirk. "And find out."

She was fighting her usual reservations, keeping her heart locked up and the key safely tucked away somewhere only she knew about. But this man was unravelling her quickly and her figurative walls suddenly tumble, as her literal ones crave him desperately.

" _Yes_."

That’s how she finds herself in an Uber with a stranger whose name is still a mystery, going to an undisclosed location that could very well get her trouble. For reasons she doesn’t quite understand, she trusts this man not to take advantage of her trust. Perhaps it has to do with the way he doesn’t try to touch her in the back of the car, remaining a respectable distance, yet staring at her just as unrelenting as he did at the bar.

The car stops in front of a low and stoney building, the outside already looking less sophisticated than the place they were in before. Gwen doesn’t know exactly what the place is, but she’s feeling herself slightly relax when the stranger opens his car door and holds hers open for her too. She steps out and is surprised when he reaches to hold her hand. It’s the first time he’s actively seeking physical connection and she’s not opposed to it at all.

He drags her into the building by her hand, the jazzy music hitting her ears. The place is small and crowded, most people on the dance floor, some getting something to eat in the various booths that surround the place.

“Food or dance?” He smirks, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts.

His eyes are the bluest she’s ever seen and she’s genuinely displeased with the thought of having to let go of his hand. She’s eaten back home, she can do without food. She can’t do without this man taking over her thoughts and senses for a while.

“Dance.” She whispers.

“I was hoping you’d choose that.”

They make their way to the dance floor, the jazzy tune slowing down into an intimate one and he stares at her softly. His hand tugs at hers gently, forcing her to get closer. She’s once again hit by the scent of his cologne, swallowing roughly.

“Can I hold you here?” He asks, his hand softly tapping her lower back, dangerously close to the curve of her ass.

All her senses are heightened, her heart beating so fast she’s afraid she might pass out.

She nods. “Yes.”

He smiles, his hand firmly laying across her lower back, his other hand brushing her hair off her shoulder to expose her skin.

“Are you nervous?”

She catches a slight hint of amusement in that question, and it’s enough to want to reverse the roles a little bit. She surprises him by using his hand to turn herself around rhythmically, her back now pressed against his front as his hand slides from her back to her stomach.

She sways her hips to the tune that is playing, equally surprised when the man behind her knows exactly what to do with it.

“Not really, just confused.” She responds with a smile, tilting her head back to look at him.

His smile is one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen, his body strong and solid behind hers and she wonders if this is going to be the first time she’ll ever indulge in a one night stand.

“I don’t mean to confuse you, darlin’.”

“I’m just confused how I met you in that bar, when you know a place like _this_.”

He chuckles, bringing his hands to her hips as he helps to guide her movements.

“I don’t come here that often, either.” He lowers his head to the crook of her neck, seemingly getting intoxicated off _her_ scent now. “I just saw a pretty lady who wasn’t enjoying herself and figured the least I could do was salvage her night.”

She bites her lip. “Are you salvaging my night, right now?”

He hums against her skin, her whole body erupting into goosebumps. She needs to get control of the situation, flipping herself around and crashing into his chest, one hand reaching out for his hip.

“You’re a leader, but not much of a dancer.” She points out, hearing the low rumble of his laugh hitting her ears.

“Guilty as charged.”

His hands are tight on her hips, his fingers burning a hole through the fabric of her dress. Her naked skin beneath it begging to be touched by him. Her body reeling with the force of her sudden and unfamiliar desperation. 

“I don’t dislike it.” She whispers, unable to have any complaints when he holds and guides her the way he does, his hands firm but never rough.

She’s held so closely to his body, she dares to dream about what it would be like to merge them completely.

“I am gonna get your name by the end of the night.” He says darkly, moving her backwards while using his hand to spin her once.

“Who says I’ll still be with you at the end of the night?” She teases, her hand going to his shoulder while the other one slides to the back of his neck.

“The music is slowing down.” He says, softly. “There will be a ballad and we’ll dance. It’ll be close and intimate and one of us is going to give in at some point, and before I ever kiss you, I want a name.”

His prospect makes her want to yell out her name right away, wanting that out of the way so she can accept his kisses eagerly. But she enjoys the tease, even enjoys the power she has in this moment.

“Maybe, maybe not.” She says, lowly.

Even over the music, she can still hear his soft hum. She might appear confident about her self-control but he’s silently calling her out on her bluff.

The slow song _does_ make it a lot harder to focus on things like logic, her body so tightly pressed against his now, slightly swaying. She can basically feel his heartbeat as her own.

She’s pressed so close against him, that when his phone starts buzzing in his chest pocket, she gasps softly at the deep vibration against her.

He frowns, rubbing her back. “Sorry darling, whoever that is has the worst timing in the world.”

She smiles. “You’re not gonna get that?”

He stares down at her, his hand keeping her in place against him.

“I’m currently spending my time just the way I like it. I have no desire to stop doing what we’re doing.”

The words sound beautiful, but when the phone goes off again, she pulls herself away from him slightly.

He cusses under his breath, causing her to smile softly. He grabs the phone out of his pocket, knowing his intention is to shut it off and go back to business, but something in his eyes changes from carefree to worried and Gwen knows something’s up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sweetheart…” He winces, his eyes going up to hers. “It’s my friend, it’s an emergency…. I hate to have to do this, but…”

“Go.” She says, the words coming out surprisingly steady for how much disappointment she feels. “It’s okay.”

He brushes a strand of hair out of her face, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “At least let me call you a car to get you home.”

She bites her lip, shaking her head. ”You should go. I can take care of my own ride, trust me." 

He grimaces, but obviously doesn't have the time to fight her on it. His legs hurry him out of the building and she wonders if his friend knows how much she silently dislikes him or her.

Even so, she met the nameless stranger at the most unexpected time, which can only be God’s doing. She doesn’t meet people like him ever—no one does. Her heart is doing cartwheels inside her chest the whole drive home and her body continues to tingle.

She might not know his name, but she knows his heart—it had been pressed against her own for some precious minutes, making sure to leave an imprint.

\--

The door falls shut quietly as she tries to tiptoe into the hallway, her face screwing up when her heels make a loud noise on the floor. She bends down to take them off, sighing in relief when she no longer has them on. She hopes not to wake her friend, as it’s late and she’s not sure if she has the capacity to explain what happened tonight without sounding crazy.

She feels herself aching for him in a way she can’t even understand. But she knows she won’t ever see him again, she didn’t even get his name, let alone a phone number. This was one of those once-in-a-lifetime situations; she caught lightening in a bottle and she wouldn’t ruin it by trying to capture it. She knows a man like him could never be bottled up. He was to enjoy once and then never again. And God, she enjoyed him.

She’s so lost in her thoughts; she doesn’t even notice Chelsea sleeping on the couch. It’s not until she turns the light on as she walks into the living room mindlessly that she hears her friend groan.

“Gwen Renee Stefani…. did you _just_ come home?”

Instead of answering her friend, she walks into the kitchen and makes herself a cup of coffee. If she’s going to do this, she’s gonna need some fuel first.

“You can’t just ignore me.” Her friend states, her voice surprisingly loud for someone who just woke up. “Come on, you gotta tell me everything. I was worried sick.”

Gwen comes walking back in with her cup of coffee between her two hands, shaking her head.

“Up until two minutes ago, you didn’t even know I didn’t come home yet.”

“Okay, but I totally didn’t expect you to stay out all night.” Her friend admits with a smile, sitting up on the couch and rubbing her eyes. “Tell me everything.”

Gwen sighs, pulling up Chelsea’s blanket and taking a seat at the corner of the couch, draping the quilt over her legs as much as she can.

“Chels, there’s nothing to tell.” She lies, her mind still trying to process everything that happened tonight, everything she was made to feel by simply dancing and talking to this man.

“Something is different about you.” Her friend notices, and Gwen shouldn’t be surprised at how well she knows her. They’ve spent all their college years together and have lived in the same house ever since. It would be weirder for her _not_ to notice the change in Gwen’s demeanour. “You obviously went home with someone. Tell me who. Come on.”

Her friend is insistent and Gwen knows she’ll end up giving in, just like she gave into the handsome stranger tonight.

“I didn’t go home with anyone and I don’t know the name of the guy I was with.” Gwen whispers, suddenly feeling bashful.

“Bullshit.” Her friend laughs. “Come on, at least give me his name.”

She looks at her friend, biting her lip.

“I really don’t know.” Gwen says softly, taking a sip of her coffee and wincing when it’s slightly too hot. “I met someone at that bar, but I don’t know his name…”

Chelsea’s mouth parts slightly, her expression a stunned one.

“You slept with someone but you don’t know his name?”

Gwen shakes her head, feeling the embarrassment hit her suddenly.

“We didn’t sleep together.” She closes her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “We started talking and hit it off and I didn’t want to ruin it by getting overly personal. I know myself, I would’ve overshared and scared him off before we could even get to the good part.”

Chelsea smiles. “So did you? I mean…. get to the good part?”

Gwen blushes. “We went to a different place, one that he knew and liked. They played good music and people were actually having fun. We danced. A lot. But we didn’t kiss or touch or anything,”

Her friend frowns, squinting her eyes.

“You just danced?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that.” Gwen starts to say, knowing what she’ll say next will most likely sound crazy, but she can’t help it. “We might not have been screwing our brains out like you told me, but he was…. he made me feel something. He was like everything you read about, only better.”

Chelsea purses her lips together, listening to her.

“Woah, you got his number?”

She shakes her head. “Chels, I don’t even have his _name_ , do you really think we got as far as exchanging phone numbers?”

“But he’s a regular at that bar?” She pries, trying to help her out. “In that case, you can just go there again and you might run into him again.”

Gwen feels disappointment settle deep in her chest as she tries to remind herself she’s okay with this being a one-time thing.

“No, he told me he hated that place. We both did. And the new one, I think he said something about not coming there too often either.”

Chelsea grimaces. “Damn.”

“Yeah.” Gwen agrees. “But it doesn’t matter. It might’ve felt different but we weren’t there to get to know each other. We were there to make each other _feel_ something. It was one time and I’m good with that.”

“Feel something on the dance floor?” Chelsea counters. “Gwen, if someone can make you feel like this just by _dancing_ with you, it might be worth pursuing.”

“There’s nothing to pursue, Chels. I don’t know who I’m even talking about and before we could get any further he was being whisked away by one of his friends who apparently was going through an emergency.”

“And you just let him go?” Chelsea gasps.

Her eyes widen. “What was I supposed to do? Tell him he couldn’t leave to help out his friend?” She scoffs. “Yeah, that really would’ve made me score points with him.”

“Well what good is scoring points gonna do if you won’t even see him again?”

She sighs. “It’s over. It’s fine, I’ll forget about him. It was just one evening.”

“Is this because of Ryan still?” Her friend asks, causing Gwen to tense up immediately. “Because Gwen, not every guy is gonna be like that. You don’t have to hide yourself away from the whole world just because he couldn’t see what he had when he had it.”

“It’s not about him.” Gwen fires back a little too forcefully. “I didn’t even think about him at all.”

“I’m not talking about just tonight.” Chelsea continues, never afraid to press her on difficult matters. “I’m talking about the fact that you rarely socialize or go out anymore. You focus all your time and attention to work, and it’s not that I don’t admire your work ethic, but it’s okay to want more.”

“I don’t want more.”

“But you liked being with this unknown guy tonight.”

“And then it ended abruptly and we both hurried out of there.” Gwen says, hoping to convince them both that this was just something meaningless, something she won’t think about anymore after she takes a long, hot shower.

“Did you at least show him you were disappointed when he left?”

Gwen shakes her head, unable to look at her friend as she admits that truth.

“I didn’t really.”

“ _Woah_.” Chelsea repeats, shaking her head. “You really took a page out of my playbook, didn’t you?”

“I needed to let loose, have some fun.” Gwen says. “Well, I did that.”

“Yeah, but when I told you to go out and enjoy yourself, I didn’t mean go find a guy who’s worth obsessing over and then let him go without even getting his name or number.”

Gwen sighs, taking another sip of her dark liquid.

“If this is you feeling guilty for telling me to go out, don’t be.” She says, finding her gaze. “I did what I did because I wanted to. I’m fine, honestly. I just need to shower and get into some fresh clothes and I’ll be as good as new.”

Chelsea’s brow raises. “Are you sure?”

Gwen hums. “I am. How about I go take that shower and we both get some sleep. Tomorrow, we can enjoy the rest of our weekend by binging Netflix and ordering take-out.”

“Okay, you know those are the magic words.” Chelsea groans, realizing she just lost the battle.

Gwen smiles, finishing the rest of her coffee before setting the cup on the table in front of her. She smooths the fabric of her dress back down her thighs and stands up, walking towards the hallway.

“Since you haven’t taken that shower yet, there’s still time for me to ask about him.” Chelsea pipes up once more, causing Gwen to roll her eyes. “Just answer me one thing.”

Gwen turns back around, leaning against the doorway as she awaits her friend’s undoubtedly inappropriate question.

“Did you wish you had slept with him?”

Gwen bites her lip, knowing it’s not a hard question at all. Not only does she already have the vivid fantasies going on in her mind, it was written all over her face.

“Yes.” She admits softly, nodding. “I do.”

“You think he would’ve been into any freaky things?”

Gwen laughs breathily. “No, I mean I don’t know…. He was confident, not afraid to go after what he wanted, that’s for sure. He knew what he was doing and I think that was the hottest thing about it all. I picture he would be the same way in the bedroom.”

“Damnit.” Chelsea smiles, a dirty grin. “One last question.”

“ _Chels_ ….’ Gwen groans, itching to go upstairs and leave this conversation behind, leave the handsome stranger behind who left such an uninvited impression on her.

“If somehow you guys reunited, would you sleep with him then?”

Her heart flutters slightly at the thought, the sensation between her legs making it hard to ignore the pressing truth that was now lingering against her thighs.

She sighs, then nods. “I don’t think I could stop myself.”

When she goes upstairs and turns the shower head on, her dress quietly slipping off her shoulders while she enjoys the hot water falling onto her skin, she dares to dream a little bit more vividly.

Images of him kissing her all over her body, his tongue a teasing and deliberate thing, his body firm and strong on top of her, underneath her, around her—they flood her.

The moon had been shining just a little brighter tonight as the rain had started to come down again, clattering onto the roof right after she came home. She still finds herself soaked, but it had nothing to do with the weather _or_ the shower. Her fingers dip between her legs, skating there as she bashfully wonders what it would’ve been liked had the stranger not been whisked away.

Had he had the opportunity to get her name and take her home.

She sighs, knowing she’ll have to let it go eventually for her sake. She will, after the shower. But for now, the only thing she’ll let go are some breathy gasps as she allows herself to get lost in the _could’ve_ been.


	2. When it all comes crashing down

She emerges from the bathroom as she drops a few toiletries on the bed. She’s not at all surprised to see Chelsea sitting on the edge of her bed, watching as she gives the ends of her hair a quick squeeze with her towel before draping it over the wooden chair in the back.

Gwen chuckles when she catches her friend’s nearly uncontainable smile, and she really is happy for her Chelsea’s newfound happiness.

“Whoever this guy is, I love him for making you smile like that.” Gwen says, putting on her large lilac t-shirt with a pair of simple grey sweats. She rakes a comb through her tangled hair while she hears Chelsea move around on the bed.

“I just can’t believe it, you know?” Her friend sighs, laying back against her pillow, a move Gwen catches from the reflection in the mirror. “It happened so quickly. I never even saw him before and suddenly he was there at the bar. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.”

Gwen smiles. “The perks of working in a bar, I guess. You actually meet people.”

Chelsea hums. “I can’t wait for you to meet him, Gwen. He’s totally hot and he’s got this no-nonsense vibe about him.”

“Exactly what you need.” Gwen teases. “Another troublemaker.”

“But he’s sweet too.” Her friend adds quickly, smiling to herself. “And he’s the best fucking lay I’ve ever had in my life.”

She chuckles, shaking her head. Chelsea never goes for the serious relationships, as she’s more interested in what she can get from them physically. Gwen doesn’t judge. In a way, she wishes she could be more like that. Her relationships have always been serious, some would argue _too_ serious. After getting her heart broken for the second time, in the least graceful way there is to be let down, she decided to stay single for a while. The only slip up she had was meeting with the stranger who’s name she still doesn’t know, and probably never will.

And even that situation took her a few months to get over. From time to time, in the privacy of her own bed, she’ll still remember that night. She’ll remember the things he said and the things they never got to do anywhere but in her head. She’ll touch herself while imagining everything he could’ve made her feel if he took her home, everything he could’ve lowly ordered her to do. She’ll even go as far as dream about him, think of any way she could possibly meet him again and fall asleep thinking that she is right there with him. She even went back to the bar she hated so much, without her colleagues this time, in hopes she would see him again. It seemed like he had been more serious about never coming back there, because she didn’t spot him then and she doubts she ever would.

“Hey, you listening to me?”

Chelsea’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts, guilt creeping up on her.

“Sorry, I zoned out a little.”

“I could tell.” Her friend deadpans. “You wanna tell me what’s more important than listening to me ranting about my fabulous sex life?”

Gwen rolls her eyes, walking over to her bed and sitting down next to her.

“Remember that guy I met three months ago?”

Chelsea hums. “How could I ever forget?”

“I know it’s stupid and you’ll probably think I’m crazy, but every once in a while, I still think about him.”

Her friend looks somewhat surprised at her words, and for a moment she thinks Chelsea is about to laugh at her. It’s Gwen’s turn to feel surprised when Chelsea shifts from her spot on Gwen’s bed and wraps her arm around her shoulder.

“And me talking about my boyfriend totally doesn’t help you.” Chelsea exclaims softly, almost sounding embarrassed. “I’m sorry Gwen, I wasn’t thinking.”

Her eyes widen. “No, that’s not why I said what I said. I’m glad you’re happy and I wanna hear about it. I just couldn’t help but think about that guy when you said what you said about…”

“Him being good in bed?”

Gwen nods bashfully. “I know it’s stupid. We don’t know each other and I don’t even know if he’d be good in bed. I guess sometimes I wonder.”

“I know you try to tell yourself you don’t deserve it, but it’s okay to want more.” Chelsea tells her, softly. “It’s okay to want to feel good and dreaming about using someone to help you do that isn’t a crime. Falling for someone who’s name you don’t even know isn’t either.”

“But it’s not like me.”

“No, it’s not.” Her friend agrees. “But what _is_ like you, is to hide yourself away and hope no one ever notices you again. I don’t know how much better that is.”

Gwen groans. “You know what happens when I try to put myself out there, Chels.”

“He was a damn fool.” She hisses, shaking Gwen in her arms. “Do you not look at yourself in the mirror and see what we see? Because damn it Gwen, you’re gorgeous and you’re absolutely relationship material. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

“Yet every guy I’ve ever been with has been more interested in being shady than investing in a future.” Gwen sighs. “I’m not trying to get all sad and negative on you. You were telling me about your boyfriend and I think we should go back to that.”

“I think we should stick with this subject and figure out why you’re blaming yourself for Ryan’s mistakes.” Chelsea counters. “Gwen, it wasn’t your fault.”

“But I was stupid and naïve, and I was blinded by what I thought was love. I don’t want to do that again.” Gwen hates how she feels herself getting emotional, flashbacks of the dysfunctional relationship and even more painful break-up slamming into her. “I’m happy with my life like this; I like going to work, coming home to my best friend and not having to worry about any boy trouble.”

Chelsea groans. “You are the most stubborn woman in the world.”

Gwen chuckles. “You did _not_ just say that to me….”

“Fine, I’m stubborn too, but it takes one to know one.”

“Chelsea, will you please continue talking about your man now?” Gwen asks sweetly, hugging her friend back. “I want to hear what I missed.”

She can tell her friend is torn, but the urge to babble on about her relationship is too great to ignore.

“I don’t know exactly what we’re doing yet, since most of the time we’ve spent together has been at night, but I think it could really be something. He’s picking me up tomorrow night after my shift, he said he wanted to take me out on a _real_ date. Whatever that means.”

“That’s sweet. How long have you been seeing him now?”

“Couple weeks. Not that long, but it’s longer than most of my relationships have lasted.”

Gwen chuckles. “Trust me, I’m aware of that.”

“I was thinking maybe I could invite him over here soon?” Chelsea asks, feeling a bit awkward. “We could throw a party, that way you won’t even have to leave the house and you’d still be doing something social.”

Gwen snorts. “We always end up here somehow.”

“Is that a yes?”

The need for a party isn’t one she necessarily feels, but she does want to meet the guy who’s been enchanting her friend for weeks now. She also doesn’t think a little bit more socializing could hurt her.

“Sure. We could throw a small party.”

“I don’t know about _small_.” Chelsea laughs. “I have a few people I work with who would love to come.”

“Of course you do.”

“But it’s gonna be fun.” Her friend promises. “I really appreciate it, Gwen. I think you two will hit it off as well. And who knows, maybe he’s got a handsome brother we don’t know about?”

Gwen closes her eyes, letting her friend pull her down onto the mattress.

“You’re an idiot, but I love you.”

\--

  
The tall ceilings had a way of making you feel small from the second you stepped into the fancy building. Gwen remembers her first weeks working here, as she couldn’t stop staring, wondering how she even got here. Now, it feels slightly more familiar but just as surreal. It doesn't help that she spends most of her days working from home.

The walk over to her desk is a long one and she knows she’ll only be there to drop off her coat before heading to the board meeting.

It’s one of the first ones she’s attending and there’s a hopeful feeling swirling around in her gut, that maybe she’s finally about to get more responsibilities. Responsibilities that have more to do with her dream job and less with being the company’s trash can.

Her pencil skirt is tight, preventing her from walking too fast, and she hopes like hell she can make it out early today so she has time to change before Chelsea’s party starts.

A few colleagues pass her on the way to the large meeting room, most not even acknowledging her.

“You ready?” Calle’s voice is one she recognizes. Though Gwen has her reservations about the woman, she’s been the only colleague so far who’s actively been trying to make contact with her. Gwen is starting to soften up to her.

“Ready for what?” Gwen asks, confused.

“This is your second board meeting…” Calle states. “You do know what that means right?”

“Not really.” Gwen admits. “What does it mean?”

“It means that he’s going to ask for your opinion on the most pressing issue we’re dealing with currently, to see if you’re aware and ready for more tasks.”

Gwen’s eyes widen, her stomach twisting violently.

“He’s gonna do that?”

Calle hums. “He’s a bit of a jerk like that, he likes to make people sweat.”

Every bone in her body tells her to turn around and run for her car, but she knows she’s ready. She _does_ know every pressing issue inside this firm, she probably knows more than most. Gwen’s smart and passionate, her desire to do more within the company has been one she’s felt from the very first second. She even asked her boss to give her more tasks, but after he bit her head off the first time, she decided to just show her skill sets in whatever capacity he wanted to use it and was hopeful it would eventually lead to more. She just had to earn his trust, show him she was capable, and the rest would follow.

But she’d been here for six months now, and not a whole lot had changed. If she had to believe Calle, it sounded like today could be the day that all changes. And it would all be up to her and how she handles this sudden confrontation that’s about to happen.

Her hands are clammy and she’s grateful when Calle holds the door open for her, saving her the embarrassment of having to use her shaky hands.

She sits down at the large round table, trying to appear confident. Her boss starts off the meeting with the basic bullet points; their business strategies, highlighting employees who had an exceptionally good month and going over past performance reports.

“We’ve got a huge ambassador who’s willing to back us, lots of exposure coming our way, which means we need more designs and faster.” Her boss starts to explain, his features always stern and serious. “This is not just an opportunity for us to expand as a business, it’s an opportunity to make a name for ourselves in the fashion community, once and for all. This is the type of exposure that leads to _stars_. I need everyone to be on their A-game.”

Gwen’s mind is racing; she’s had designs ready before she even started here, yet no one has ever even laid eyes on them. She’d never been asked or even allowed to show them.

“I want people who think outside the box, and I want people who can work fast and not have it compromise the quality of their works……. _Gwen_?”

Her head snaps up, the room falling quiet.

“Yes sir?”

“When you just started here you came to me and told me you had a lot of ideas, things some of our colleagues here might not even think about because they’ve worked here for a while, as your perspective is a fresh one.”

Gwen’s heart plummets at the way he’s exposing her private words to the rest of the group, realizing that her statement won’t make her any more popular with these people.

“With that in mind, I would like to ask you about your perspective on this business opportunity and what you think you could bring to the table in a moment like this.”

She swallows harshly, reminding herself that this is something she’s worked her ass off for. She can do this; she just has to believe in herself.

“I think I can offer a fresh perspective on what people like and what works.” She says, faking her most confident tone of voice, hoping he can’t see right through her. “I’m not afraid to work outside the box cause I haven’t spent too long _inside_ the box, I don’t even think I know what the _box_ is. Plus, I have all the time in the world. This project would become my sole focus and I promise I won’t disappoint.”

It’s silent for a while, her fears telling her she just fucked up before she could even get started. Her boss’s smile confuses her before he starts talking again.

“Great. It’s settled then.” He folds his hands together, his voice having a definite quality to it. “Gwen will be leading this new business venture. From now on, the designs will go through her and her lens only before they ever hit my desk. Gwen, if you’re free tomorrow night, I’d like to run through the whole project with you and answer any questions you might have.”

Gwen nods, her mind reeling.

She went from doing most of the administrative work to getting an actual job as designer and marketing strategist. Though it’s what she worked for tirelessly in school, and she knows she’s good at it, it’s still surreal and quite intimidating.

The board meeting gets suspended, people trickling out of the room, looking just as confused as she does. Calle’s hand stops her from walking too far, the woman standing still in front of her.

“I didn’t expect you to want to get this opportunity in this way.” She says, looking at her with condemn. “Trust me Gwen, everyone needs friends, especially in a cut-throat business like this one. You just got rid of every single potential friend in here.”

She swallows roughly, her non-confrontational nature working against her.

“Calle, I…”

“Just thought I should let you know.” The woman responds, cutting her off. “Consider it a _friendly_ warning.”

Gwen’s stuck watching the woman walk away, her heart still racing. While she’s tempted to run back into the boardroom and tell her boss she can’t do this, she knows it’s crazy. This has been her dream ever since being a little girl. She’d be damned if she let a bunch of jealous colleagues get in the way of getting there.

Her phone buzzes in her purse, her fingers still slightly shaking as she retrieves the device out of her purse. The text is one from Chelsea and she cusses inwardly. There’s no way Gwen will be on time for the party that should start at seven thirty, the ride home at least gonna take her close to half an hour. She hurries herself down the corridor, the tall building left behind for the refreshing evening air.

\--

“Gwen, how can you be _late_?” Chelsea scolds her, looking her over. “Didn’t I tell you how you take work way too seriously?”

She wants to tell her friend about her new business achievement, but she figures Chelsea is already a few drinks down and this is not the right time.

“Let me go get dressed and— “

She can’t even finish her sentence when someone bumps into her, an unfamiliar voice ushering and apology before moving on.

Gwen’s lips part, slightly. “How many people do you know, Chels? Why is our tiny apartment being taken over by at _least_ twenty people right now?”

“I told you I have colleagues who wanted to see our place.” She says casually, sipping on her mixed drink. “Just hurry up and get dressed. My boyfriend should be here any moment now and I don’t want you to miss his great entrance.”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Great. I’ll just go right now.”

Chelsea nods and Gwen laughs quietly when she catches her excited stare. She can’t even blame the woman; it has been at least years since Chelsea last dated someone serious, and it almost _does_ feel like something that deserves to be celebrated.

Gwen takes off the tight pencil skirt and replaces it with tight jeans and a black tank, showing her bra from both sides. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her hair a bit fuzzy but still flowing freely down her shoulders as she tugged it out of her professional bun.

When Gwen comes back downstairs, she finds the party having turned up a gear; a bunch of people now playing beer pong on their dinner table while a few others have stepped outside on the patio to smoke a cigarette. She sees Chelsea pouring herself another glass in the kitchen as she approaches her softly.

“How do I look?” Gwen asks, knowing it will excite Chelsea and hopefully distract her from the nerves she knows her friend is feeling.

She turns around and glances over at Gwen, smiling and putting her thumb and index finger together to show her approval.

“You look absolutely fucking gorgeous.” Her friend exclaims, fixing her a drink and pushing it in her hands. “Thank you for being here for me. I know it’s not your thing, parties and drinking and well…all of it.”

Gwen clinks her glass with Chelsea’s, grinning. “Tonight is different. I’m excited for you, babe.”

Chelsea’s gaze is directed downwards as her phone buzzes, her features suddenly becoming even more excited. She jumps a little on her feet, setting her glass on the counter.

“He’s here.” She announces, excitedly. “Come on.” She tugs Gwen with her towards the front door, the hand on her arm having a vice-like grip.

Gwen shakes her head with a chuckle, watching as Chelsea guides them through the few people they encounter along the way. The grip on her arm suddenly disappears and Gwen realizes she probably wasn’t walking fast enough for her friend. When she approaches the door, she catches Chelsea in a tight hug with her boyfriend, her hands cupping both his cheeks as she kisses him deeply, not caring about any voyeurs.

“ _Jesus_.” Gwen chuckles, biting her lip at the overly dramatic display of affection.

When they finally pull away and Chelsea starts walking towards her, is when her heart suddenly drops.

Her throat dries as she can’t believe what she’s seeing, or better yet, _who_. Right there on Chelsea’s arm, is the man who only needed one night to completely enamour her, disarming her for months to come.

“Gwen, this is my boyfriend. Blake.”

Blake.

She had spent so many nights wondering what his name could be and now she knows. His features tighten at laying eyes on her again too, and she hopes Chelsea is tipsy enough not to notice.

“Gwen?” Chelsea asks, worried at her sudden silence.

Gwen regroups quickly, inhaling sharply as she extends her hand to him.

“Blake, nice to meet you.” Her voice sounds weak and scratchy, but the large smile on Chelsea’s face shows her this is all she wanted.

Blake takes her hand in a firm handshake, his eyes portraying the same surprise and confusion.

“Nice to meet you as well.” His voice is exactly as alluring and attractive as she remembered it being, her heart aching at the sudden turn of events. “Chelsea told me a lot about you.”

She retracts her hand, unable to keep the raging emotions inside her under control. She smooths her hand down Chelsea’s arm, faking a smile.

“I forgot my drink in the kitchen, I’ll be right back.”

Chelsea nods, and Gwen realizes that her friend is actually completely unaware of the tension going on between her and Blake, completely wrapped up in him. When she turns away just a second too late and has to see her friend initiate another kiss from Blake, she feels a little wobbly on her feet.

Gwen has heard stories about Chelsea and Blake’s wild nights, more than once. She knows things, details about this man, that did nothing to her before. But after learning about who he is, she wishes she could erase all those stories from her brain. The last thing she wants is for her mind to play cruel tricks on her, making her imagine all that she missed out on.

She turns her back on the rest of the party, leaning both hands on the kitchen counter. She shudders out a shaky breath. This isn’t about her; this is about her friend who finally found happiness with someone. She can’t let her own personal feelings ruin such an important thing for Chelsea. She would be the worst friend if she did.

She grabs her drink from the counter, turning back around to join the rest of the people in the living room when a figure in the doorway halts her. Her heart plummets once more and she wonders how many more times she can stand that happening before she actually falls to the floor. Her hand grips the glass a bit tighter at the sight of him walking into her kitchen.

“Chelsea told me to go grab her glass.” He speaks softly. “It should be in here?”

Gwen moves then, reaching behind her to grab her friend’s glass from right next to the sink where she’d left it.

“Here.”

He takes it from her hand, his gaze lingering on her a tad too long.

“Gwen, I didn’t know— “

“Obviously.” She grimaces, cutting him off.

“Right.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “God, this is awkward.”

“Chelsea really likes you.” Gwen says, sipping her drink.

“She’s an awesome girl.” Blake responds, staring at Chelsea’s glass and helping himself to a sip. “Knows how to have fun and she mixes a mean drink.” Blake chuckles to himself. “I really care about her, and I’m happy to know she’s got a friend like you who has her back. She really did tell me a lot about you.”

Gwen nods, forcing the words out of her mouth. “I’m glad she found someone who makes her happy.”

The words might not come out as strong as she would’ve hoped, but it’s the best she’s gonna do. Her mind continues to run a million miles per hour, her body involuntarily responding to Blake in a way she wishes it wouldn’t.

“I guess this means we’ll be seeing more of each other?” He states awkwardly, the smile on his face making it hard to focus on anything else. He holds out Chelsea’s glass to her, motioning for her to gently clink it with hers. “To friendship?”

Gwen will do whatever she can to make sure this relationship for Chelsea becomes a success, even if it means being around the guy who she’s had many inappropriate dreams about before. But it doesn’t mean that her stomach isn’t violently turning inside her, her throat so dry it hurts a little when she speaks.

“Let’s not pretend we want to be friends.” She says, swallowing roughly before clinking their glasses together. “To tolerating each other.”

It’s not what she wanted to say at all, but her heart is at such odds, she can’t even let herself get too comfortable by becoming friends with him. The way her heart and body are yearning for this man already, she knows it’s best to try and keep her distance as much as she can.

“ _Awesome_.” Blake’s voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Gwen walks out of the kitchen, unable to be in the same room with Blake any longer, not sure if she’ll start cussing him out for no reason or forget about all sanity and try to throw herself at him.

“Nice to meet you, my ass.” She hears Blake murmur as she walks passed, ignoring his words and mingling in the crowd of strangers in her living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the story is REALLY kicking off..


	3. All my cracks are showing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments on the previous one. I haven’t responded yet, but they made me super happy. I know a lot of you are worried about this dynamic being too weird, and all I can say is please trust the process. It gets weirder before it gets better? *nervous giggle*

It drives her nuts that he doesn’t seem to care about their awkward situation.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch, sipping a beer, looking rumpled, confident and utterly sexy. Chelsea seems to feel the same way as she’s completely pressed against him, her hand on his chest as she keeps looking up at him when she talks, just making sure he’s listening – and he always _is_.

There are only a few of Chelsea’s closest colleagues left, the rest has all gone home after a long night of immature drinking games and work gossip. Blake had fit in well with everyone, enchanting the people around him with ease.

Gwen had a harder time fitting in tonight and she’s glad most of Chelsea’s co-workers had already seen her before, therefore she didn’t feel utterly pressured to leave the best impression. Adrenaline is still swirling through her bloodstream from first laying eyes on him again tonight, her mind reeling. She has trouble not looking at the way his shirt is unbuttoned slightly at the top, exposing a bit of chest.

Blake’s in conversation with Eric, the guy who’s been undoubtedly the most disappointed to learn of Chelsea’s relationship, after Gwen. Chelsea’s eager colleague had been all too happy to show her around after she’d just started working there, and though Chelsea denies it up and down, Gwen wouldn’t be surprised if something happened between those two before she started dating Blake. The handsome Southerner seems everything but threatened by the man though. And, why would he?

There aren’t many people out there looking like Blake; he’s in a class of his own and he _knows_ it.

“I should probably go home.” Eric says, placing his empty beer bottle on the coffee table. “It’s been a hell of a party, Chels.”

Chelsea smiles, biting her lip before looking up at Blake.

“Told you, he wouldn’t make it to four am.”

Eric’s eyes widen, playfully. 

“You had a bet going on?”

Chelsea smirks. “Oh, you know I love you. You were just hitting the beers hard and Blake and I happened to have different ideas on how long it was gonna take you to feel them.”

“I kinda don’t want to leave now, knowing it means you won a bet at my expense.”

“An unfair one.” Blake responds, his hand squeezing Chelsea’s arm. “You obviously know him better than I do.”

“I won square and fair, baby.” She leans a little closer into him. “You know what that means, right?” Blake raises his eyebrow, humouring her. “Means you _owe_ me.”

Gwen feels his low chuckle everywhere, despite it not being meant for her.

“Owe you what?” He asks with a maddening smile.

“Whatever I want. And you know _exactly_ what it is that I want.” She winks, apologizing when Eric makes a gagging noise.

Blake doesn’t even flinch at her blatantly suggestive comment and Gwen figures it’s something you get used to pretty quickly when hanging with Chelsea. It’s one of the things Gwen loves about her friend, but these last few hours have made it painfully clear that it’s about to become her biggest form of torture too.

Gwen ends up letting their remaining guests out, returning to Blake and Chelsea still cuddled up on the couch. A bunch of bottles and half-empty glasses stain every piece of hard furniture around her and she suddenly finds herself with something other to do than watch her best friend and Blake loving up to each other.

“We can clean up after we’ve slept, Gwennie.” Her friend starts saying when Gwen picks up a few bottles and brings them to the kitchen.

“I don’t mind.” Gwen replies quickly.

The truth is, she wants to do anything but stay there and watch Chelsea love up to her man, and she also doesn’t want to go to bed and risk thinking about Chelsea’s lover in a way she shouldn’t. The best thing for Gwen to do is to start cleaning the house a bit, placing the glasses in the sink before rinsing them.

“She’s under a lot of stress.” Gwen hears Chelsea say from where she’s still pressed to her boyfriend. “Some people clean to clear their minds, you know?”

Gwen rolls her eyes, hoping like hell that she’ll find out a way to deal with these feelings she’s experiencing before she gives Chelsea the wrong impression.

When the house and kitchen seem somewhat liveable again, Gwen has no choice but to walk out into the living room again. She’s about to tell her friend she’s going to bed when she finds them having a similar idea.

Chelsea’s hand is tightly holding on to Blake’s, obviously eager to get him upstairs.

“We’ll finish the rest in the morning.” Blake says, surprising her.

Gwen blinks a few times, clearing her throat.

“Sorry, what?”

“The rest of the mess.” He says, and though he’s a bit more subtle about it, she can tell he enjoys the way her friend is hanging around him. “We’ll finish cleaning the rest tomorrow.”

It would be a lot easier if Blake gave her more reasons to stay away from him. It would be a lot easier if he turned out to be an actual ass after spending some time with him, but the whole night he’s basically been proving her the opposite is true. In ways, she thinks he might even end up being a real good influence on Chelsea. He might enjoy his girlfriend’s wild side, but he’s also a lot more lowkey.

“That’s okay, it’s our place.” Gwen says, softly. “We’ll handle this.”

Chelsea snorts. “Yeah, with ‘we’ he totally meant _me_ , Gwennie.”

“Oh.” Gwen exclaims, still holding Blake’s gaze, unable to look away.

Chelsea laughs, grabbing the lapel of Blake’s jacket, yanking him towards him and kissing him full on the mouth. Blake looks surprised to say the least, chuckling down at her.

“But he was right about finishing the rest in the morning.” She says, turning to look at Gwen with a large smile before pulling herself away from his side for the first time that night as she hugs Gwen firmly. “Thank you for being the best as usual.”

Gwen can’t help but smile as Chelsea sounds so happy and relieved, grinning at her.

“Good night, Chels.”

“I think we’ll manage that.” She grins suggestively, placing a soft kiss on Gwen’s cheek. “Goodnight, Gwennie.”

Gwen tries not to look bitterly when Chelsea grabs Blake’s hand again, directing him towards the stairs.

Blake finds her gaze once more, nodding politely.

“Night, Gwen.”

Something flutters in her chest at the words and it’s hard to keep her voice neutral as she returns the formality. Somehow, watching her best friend and Blake head upstairs to the bedroom, makes her own desire to go to bed disappear completely.

Netflix it is.

\--

The sun had barely risen this morning, but she couldn’t stand to spend another moment in bed. Her feet had carried her down the stairs quickly, yet softly, not wanting to wake the rest of the inhabitants in the house. It still felt surreal to know that Blake was sleeping only a room away from her, probably recovering from a wild night spent with Chelsea.

Gwen groans at the thought, deciding it’s never too early for a cup of coffee and some breakfast. The kitchen is still a mess, but she’s grateful she started cleaning it a little before going to bed last night. There’s nothing she hates more than waking up to a messy house. It’s something her friend usually teases her about.

There’s something about chaos and messes that completely unnerves Gwen. Not only does it make her feel rattled, it makes her feel like she’s not in control. If there’s one thing she can’t handle well, it’s the lack of control. It’s why she chooses to keep her head down at work, so she’s never put in positions where she has to do things she’s not prepared for. It’s why she doesn’t go out to clubs and lets herself get swept up by a guy who could potentially destroy her heart. It’s why she doesn’t drink too much, why she’s the quote on quote ‘good girl’. It’s why she admires Chelsea, who’s the opposite in every way, and though her life is quite turbulent because of it, she somehow makes it work.

“You’re up early.”

His morning voice makes her jump, turning around quickly with her back against the kitchen counter.

Blake’s tall frame hovers in the doorway, a soft smile gracing his features as always. He looks painfully adorable having just woken up; his hair messy, his eyes a little puffy, and the t-shirt he’s wearing showing his strong arms and even steadier chest. She wants to run her fingertips along the skin she can visibly lay her eyes on, which is why she turns away as quickly as she jumped up.

“Morning to you too.” She murmurs, continuing to wipe a wet cloth along the granite surface, getting rid of some alcohol stains from the night before.

“I thought we told you we’d take care of the rest of the cleaning.” Blake says, walking into her kitchen as he stands before the small island.

“I can tell you share the same hobby as Chelsea, which is sleeping in.” She offers, simply. “I was up early as you said, so I figured I’d just finish what I started.”

Blake hums. “Okay, in that case I hope you don’t mind some company.”

She stills her movements, sighing.

“Blake, you don’t have to help— “

“I’m not.” He cuts her off, rubbing the back of his neck. “At least not unless you _want_ me to. I just wanted to make Chelsea some breakfast.”

Of course, he’s the type of guy to fix his girlfriend breakfast in bed. It’s like it’s his personal goal to make her aware of everything she’s missing out on. She pushes back her own weirdly conflicting feelings and nods.

“Sure. The plates are in the cabinet right in front of you.”

Blake nods his appreciation.

“Thanks. Do you know what she likes to eat in the morning?”

Gwen doesn’t have the heart to tell him her friend isn’t that into breakfast, and instead wrecks her brain to try and come up with something that would work.

“Make her some light toast with avocado spread—there’s still some of that stuff in the fridge.” She says. “Oh, and coffee. Don’t even try to wake her in the morning if you’re not bringing her some coffee.”

Blake chuckles. “I hear ya loud and clear.”

Gwen smiles, washing her hands after cleaning the counter top and bending down to look in the fridge for herself.

“Did you enjoy the party last night?” Blake asks, waiting his turn to get to the fridge and smiling softly when she hands him what she knows he’s looking for. “Thanks.”

She nods. “Yeah, sure. It was fun.”

She walks herself to the other side of the kitchen island, placing her plate on the surface as she fixes herself a sandwich.

“Are you always this tight-lipped with people you meet for the first time or is it just reserved for me?”

His question makes her drop her knife, the silverware clattering on the counter. She places both hands on the granite, biting her lip hard.

“Well it’s not the first time we’ve met, is it?”

“Gwen, I know it’s a bit awkward but can’t we just move on from that?” He asks, shaking his head. “Lord knows nothing happened. We just danced.”

The words could’ve knocked her backwards, the impact one she feels in her bones. She looks away from him, directing her gaze back the plate in front of her.

“I _am_ moving on from that.” She says, swallowing roughly. “I just don’t think it’s necessary for us to spent any more time together than we have to.”

He squints his eyes. “I want you to know it was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable. There was no way I could’ve known that the friend she always talked about was you.”

“Blake…” She responds, and it still feels weird to finally know his name. “Can we please talk about _anything_ else?”

He smirks, a smug look on his face.

“Are you saying you _do_ want to talk to me now?”

She grunts, rolling her eyes while taking her plate with her out of the kitchen. She can hear his soft chuckle as she walks away, something inside her twisting at the sound.

When she plops down onto the couch, she realizes he has no intention of leaving her alone just yet. He comes walking out with one plate that holds way too much food for just Chelsea, and she realizes they’re gonna share whatever he put on there. It’s details like those that shouldn’t even be noticeable to her, but everything is on high alert when it comes to Blake, even the things as simple as him sharing breakfast with his girlfriend.

Instead of walking right back up the stairs, he lingers against the wall for a few moments.

She raises her brow, calling him out on his presence.

“Shouldn’t you be bringing that upstairs to her?”

He smiles. “I was just wondering; did you ever go back to that _terrible_ place we met at?”

Gwen’s throat tightens, the way he’s watching her not helping at all.

“No, why would you ask me that?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess after getting to know you a little bit, I understand your presence there even less.”

She presses her lips together, her finger toying with a piece of bread.

“In all fairness, you haven’t really gotten to know me yet.” She sighs before looking up at him. “But that place was horrible and I have no desire to go back there.”

He smiles. “It really was, wasn’t it?”

“What can I say, when your colleagues _finally_ acknowledge you after working there for months, you don’t pass up on an opportunity to follow them anywhere.”

Blake grunts. “Doesn’t sound like the best place to work at.”

His words offend her somehow, as if she didn’t work her ass off to be at the place she is now. So, what if her colleagues don’t like her, might not even respect her? This is where she’s supposed to be and she’s getting tired of having to proof that to everyone.

“I’m not gonna respond to that because for a conversation about my workplace to _work_ , you’d have to understand fashion. And I doubt that you do.”

He places his free hand over his heart. “Ouch. You don’t like my shirt?”

She shoots him a sideways glance, rolling her eyes.

“If you can call it that.”

His smirk gets even wider, his hand tugging at the fabric over his stomach, revealing just the tiniest bit of flesh. The sight immediately freezes her. If he notices, he doesn’t let it show, continuing with his mindless banter.

“Oh come on.” He says, still holding the fabric between his fingers. “Don’t tell me those colours don’t _totally_ make my eyes pop.”

She can’t help it then; her face gets warm. The way Blake’s watching her with that sweet and playful expression makes her think of youth, makes her think of sweaty palms and nervous dates, careful handholding’s and notes stuffed in lockers. It makes her feel like she has champagne running through her veins and she knows she shouldn’t even allow herself to warm up to him for a second. But it’s out of her _control_ completely.

She shakes her head, trying to get rid of the grin that keeps hovering over her lips.

“You’re smiling.” He observes, as she can hear the grin in his words.

She bites her lip, hard.

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.” He presses, chuckling. “I made you smile. Admit it. You’re starting to like me.”

She tries to glare at him, tries very hard, but all that ends up happening is her proving his point. “And so what if I am?”

“I thought you were gonna give me a hard time till I died, or I’d have to sell my kidney to prove my worth to you or something. I never knew a simple fashion joke would do the trick.”

“I’m still gonna give you a hard time.” She shrugs. “You think just because you wear a shirt that makes your eyes pop, I’m suddenly gonna fall at your feet in admiration?”

He wags his finger at her, his grin still a steady thing as he pushes himself off the wall.

“I’ll let you have a moment to come to terms with how awesome I am.” He teases, heading for the stairs. “It’s not your fault you can’t resist this.”

Gwen groans, hearing the chuckle from Blake all the way from the hallway. His confidence and playful demeanour are working against her defences and as much as she tries to fight it, he is right when speaking his playfully cocky words.

Only, she doesn’t think he realizes just _how_ right.

\--

“So tell me, isn’t he like totally awesome?”

Chelsea is dusting off the shelves and furniture in their tiny apartment, taking over the last of the cleaning that needs to be done after the party they threw.

Gwen is lying on the couch, feet stretched out. 

“He’s…. a lot. I can understand why you like him so much.”

“A lot?” Chelsea quips, frowning. “I need more words, Gwen. Tell me what you think of him. I know you have an opinion; you always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gwen asks, uninterested in answering her friend’s question. “I don’t always have an opinion.”

“You do, you just don’t always speak it out loud.”

“He’s nice.” Gwen relents, exhaling. “He seems like a good guy. Different from your usual type, but I can tell he’s into you.”

Chelsea smiles, her hands now resting lowly on her hips.

“He _is_ different, but I think that’s what’s making this work.” She explains. “I’ve always gone for the clean-cut, unintelligent assholes. Blake’s smart, and sure he’s the hottest thing that’s walking this planet right now, but he also has more to offer.”

Gwen fully agrees with everything, but she’s unable to verbalize that.

“Don’t you think he’s a little…. I don’t know, _too_ perfect?” Gwen asks, regretting the words immediately.

“What?” Chelsea squeals, plopping down next to Gwen on the couch. “What are you talking about? There’s no such thing as _too_ _perfect_.”

“There is.” Gwen affirms. “He gets along with all your friends and colleagues, he’s funny, offered to help clean the place, wakes up at the ungodly hour to make you breakfast in bed…”

“Oh my God.” Her friend whispers, eyes widening. “You don’t like him.”

She lets out a heavy breath, shaking her head.

“It’s not that, Chels.” She feels bad for making her friend doubt her excitement, as this is the same woman who’s helped her through every single one of her break-ups, always being the first in line to help her out whenever she had dates to go on.

“No, I can see it in your face.” She continues. “I know that look. You don’t like him.”

“I do.” Gwen says on an exhale, trying to think of a way to get herself out of this one. She decides to go for the half-truth that has nothing to do with Blake. “I had a real weird day at work yesterday and I wasn’t fully able to shake it yet at the party. I’m sorry, I wish I could’ve been a bit less distracted. I swear I’ll be on my best behaviour next time.”

Gwen can see the moment Chelsea’s features soften, her hands reaching out for hers.

“Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”

“You were so excited; I didn’t want to ruin it with my shit.” Gwen responds, honestly.

“What happened?”

Gwen bites her lip. “My boss promoted me. Made me in charge of our upcoming project, which means I’ll be designing clothes and coming up with marketing strategies—I’ll be doing what I’ve actually gone to school to learn.”

Chelsea squeezes her fingers, squeaking. “Oh my God, that’s great news! I mean, it is great, right? Why don’t you seem excited?”

“I am.” Gwen responds quickly, voice lowering. “It’s just that he gave me this promotion during our board meeting and kinda insinuated I felt like I was better for the job than all my other colleagues.” Her eyes dart down. “Let’s just say I didn’t make any new friends.”

“Fuck, what’s wrong with these people?” Chelsea scoffs. “They’ve been treating you like crap over there from the very first day, Gwen.”

She shrugs. “It’s fine. I mean, I’m not there to make friends, I’m there to do my job. I just hope I can do it well.”

“You might not be there to make friends, but you deserve some fucking respect.” Her friend counters. “I’m not saying you have to _destroy_ them, but letting everyone know you’re not one to be messed with is well within your right.”

“I’m not the confrontational type.” She says. “You know I’m not.”

Chelsea sighs, wrapping her arm around her.

“I wish I could just show up at your workplace and yell at them all.” Her friend says, causing Gwen to chuckle softly. She can actually see it. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on, though I am glad your boss finally got his head out of his ass and promoted you.”

Gwen smiles. “It was about time, wasn’t it?”

She hums. “Hell yes. They treat you like some first-year college student. You know….”

“What?” Gwen asks.

“You staying at a place where it’s obvious they don’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated, taking you for granted, it just makes me wonder if…. maybe there’s a reason you’re staying without making a fuzz.”

Gwen can feel where this is going, her eyes closing.

“The reason is that they’re finally letting me do more, Chels. I knew it was just a matter of time before— “

“Did you really know that?” Her friend cuts her off. “Or are you just so used to feeling underappreciated and mistreated, you don’t even know how to function in an environment where that’s _not_ the case?”

“ _Woah_.” Gwen pulls away as if she just got burned, eyes widening. “You know what, I’m gonna go upstairs and prepare for my meeting with my boss tomorrow. The one who thought I was good enough to take on this project. The one who didn’t think of me as some damaged flower. But thanks for your support _and_ your confidence in me.”

“Gwen.” Chelsea counters as she gets off the couch, shaking her head.

“We can talk later.” Gwen responds, heading for the stairs.

“I thought we were gonna hang out today?”

“Call your boyfriend.” She replies, the words more bitter than she would’ve liked.

Chelsea mutters something inaudible, obviously annoyed and Gwen doesn’t blame her. She knows she’s been irrational, unfair even. Chelsea’s words hit a chord, and as much as she hates to admit it, there might be some truth to them.

The last thing she wants is to process that truth in the presence of anyone though, and as she enters her bedroom, she realizes just how lonely she really is.


	4. Star-crossed lovers

Chelsea’s words keep ringing through her head.

It’s been two weeks and they still haven’t fully made up. She tries to focus on the worksheet on her desk, scrabbles and doodles staining the paper, and many pictures and outlines hovering near her work station. If she hadn’t left things at such an awkward place with her best friend, she might’ve went home earlier.

Inspiration had been running freely, but her resources are limited and whether or not she can change the entire course of the theme, depends entirely on how much she can get her colleagues on board for. At the end of the day, it’s a team effort and she doesn’t think she can pull it off without their help.

She knows she’s been put in charge, but there’s something incredibly unnerving about having to obligate her older, much more experienced colleagues, to do what she wants. She wants it to be a democratic decision, something they can all agree on.

As if on cue, the slim frame of Calle moves past her desk, appearing to be heading out early.

“Calle.” Gwen’s voice is soft, yet enough to get the woman to stand still. When she older girl looks at her, she suddenly feels nervous again. She remembers her words after the board meeting all too well. “Can I run something by you real quick?”

“Already unable to do this thing you were so sure about?”

Her words are calculated and spiteful, Gwen’s chest tightening.

“I’m actually sure I want to change the theme of the clothes we’re presenting. I wanted to run it by you before telling the rest.”

“Let me get this straight, you want everyone to stop working on what they’re working on, because you suddenly got a new idea?”

“This theme was never my idea.” Gwen responds. “I know people want to feel like they matter, but we’re past trying to feel better than everything else. This line screams _elite_ , and I think it’s more out of style than the firm realizes.”

“We’re not changing the whole thing, Gwen.”

“Just look at these…” She flicks through a few pictures on her desk, laying them out for her colleague to see. “They’re new and fresh designs, but it won’t work with the current theme.”

“So change _your_ drafts.”

The sudden iffy feeling spreads through her chest, the insecurities about what she’s doing making her impossibly aware of Chelsea’s words. She doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers, but she can’t do her job without the collaboration from her peers.

“I was put in charge of this project for a reason.” Gwen says, inhaling sharply. “I’m not changing my designs and I’d really appreciate it if you could get a start on these new ideas I’ve presented to you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. This is happening.” She tries to steady her shaky hands, squeezing her fingers together. “I’ll send out a general email to the rest of the office, and we can start fresh on Monday.”

“You don’t want to start this fight.” Calle hisses, stepping forward until both her hands lean on her desk.

Gwen swallows roughly. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“What’s happening here?”

Great, Calle’s right hand and best friend Jennifer shows up. She braces herself for whatever is about to happen, collecting her scattered papers together and filing them up nearly in one of the drawers.

“What’s _happening_ is that Gwen wants us to change course on all our designs, because Jonathan was dumb enough to put a _rookie_ in charge.”

Gwen smiles, bitterly.

“He put me in charge because he knows what I’m capable of.”

“Is that the reason?” Calle smirks. “Or did you perform some _extracurricular_ activities to ensure your position in this project?”

She takes a long breath, her cheeks heating with frustration. She’s used to being disregarded, overlooked, but the insinuation that she did anything sexual to get where she is now completely throws her for a loop. Anger courses through her veins as she tries to channel a bit of Chelsea in this moment.

“She _is_ young.” Jennifer adds, shrugging. “Probably very impressionable too. Can’t really blame her.”

Gwen stands up quickly, slamming her hand down on the desk.

“I get it.” She says, lowly. “You’ve been here for years and you figured you’d be next in line for an opportunity like this and instead they give it to a younger, more qualified colleague.” She glares at both women, angrily. “Must be a real hard pill to swallow.”

“Watch yourself.”

“No, _you_ watch yourself.” Gwen hisses. “This is my call now. I’m telling you, we’re changing the theme and it’s gonna happen whether you like it or not. You can start changing things now _willingly_ or you’ll receive an email from Jonathan after the weekend, _obligating_ you to. And he’ll do that because he believes in my talents. Trying to reduce a woman’s capabilities by pretending she only got here by sleeping with the boss is also very 2009 of you.”

She doesn’t wait for them to come back to her with a reply, and instead grabs her purse and pushes past them.

As soon as she leaves the tall building behind, she realizes how badly her hands are shaking and how her breathing is coming out sporadically. It’s been a long time since she stood up for herself like that, and though it’s still a painful memory in her brain, she thinks Chelsea’s words may have had a thing or two to do with that.

Her drive home is almost like a daze, her heart hammering and her mind already yearning for the moment she gets to reunite with her friend. The only thing she needs now, is to make up with Chelsea and spend the night watching mindless reality tv with her.

She pushes the key in the lock of the front door, immediately hit with a wave of laughter coming from the living room. Gwen kicks off her shoes and hangs her coat before following the noise, her heart now hammering for a different reason.

Two pairs of eyes look at her as she stands still in the doorway, Chelsea’s greeting obviously lacking her usual enthusiasm. Blake’s whoever sounds a bit more cheerful.

“I didn’t know when you were gonna come home.” Chelsea says, though her gaze doesn’t leave the television as she cuddles up closer to Blake. “I would’ve given you a heads up if I knew you’d be early.”

_If I knew you’d care._

She hates how in her quest of trying not to ruin things for Chelsea, she’d ended up giving her the feeling she wasn’t happy for her newfound happiness.

Gwen swallows roughly, biting her lip. “That’s okay. I was gonna head upstairs anyway, it’s been a long day.”

Chelsea hums. “Do you, Gwennie.”

A surge of relief hits her at the pet name she uses, feeling like some of the animosity might be slipping out of her by now. Even so, Gwen doesn’t feel like she’s in the right headspace to spent any time with the lovebirds.

She manoeuvres around the kitchen, finishing herself some left over pasta. As much as she wishes she could just run upstairs without eating, she knew her stomach would protest that decision sometime soon. Gwen’s eyes fall onto the couple cuddled up on the couch, her throat constricting when Blake meets her gaze.

She feels her cheeks warm, the thud of her heartbeat inside her chest driving her crazy.

Blake’s gaze is directed back to Chelsea when he leans down to peck a soft kiss on her lips and Gwen wonders if it’s just in her head or if he actually wanted her to see him do it.

It’s crazy, it’s even juvenile, but her romantic feelings have always been messy. She almost didn’t expect it to be any different this time. Only in many ways, it _is_. Somehow she feels a connection with Blake that’s deeper than just physical. She’s only ever danced with him once, she barely ever spoke to him, and still…it’s like she’s known him for years.

The thought has her drowning in guilt soon enough, her heart aching at the sound of laughter coming from Chelsea. She needs to get away, and she needs to do it quickly.

She pushes her chair backwards, rinses her plate and announces she’s heading upstairs.

\--

She feels hot all over, her hands twisting in the sheets.

As his mouth lowers and lowers, she feels her thigh-muscles involuntarily tightening. His tongue touching her there makes her gasp out loud, her hips bucking up at him.

His strong hands are placed on her hips, strategically keeping her down while his mouth laps and nips at her sensitive flesh, tearing the moans straight out of her throat.

One of his hands slides up to the underside of her breast, his finger flicking her nipple while his tongue never changes course. Her eyes roll back, her lips part, his name the only thing she knows how to say.

“Blake.”

It’s like a fucking prayer, one she can’t help but repeat.

He hums against her, the vibration causing her to buck up again, his mouth gently sucking on her clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…. _Blake_!”

Her eyes shoot open, her sweaty body gasping for air as she wakes.

Her chest is heaving and the wetness between her thighs is a confrontational reminder of what just happened.

She shudders out a sigh, taking in the dark bedroom, and her empty bed.

She stretches her limbs, her hand running down her legs as she tries to calm herself down. Her hand hovers at her inner thigh for a moment, debating whether or not to get rid of some of that pressing and lingering ache between her legs. She sighs at the craziness of it and decides against it, throwing her head back on the pillow.

After a few more moments of coming down, she wills herself out of bed and down the stairs, in desperate need of some water.

She rubs her tired eyes with the inside of her palms, trying to withstand the sudden kitchen light. She grabs a glass from the cabinets, filling it to the brim with water. Her heart is still pounding, her center still throbbing.

Her dreams are becoming more vivid as her life spirals more out of control each day. She doesn’t know if it’s a coincidence that as soon as the handsome Southerner came into their lives, hers completely derailed. She feels out of touch, confused and conflicted, and worse, her relationship with Chelsea is straining under these feelings she’s harboring.

She gulps down the cold liquid in her glass, letting herself enjoy the much-needed refreshment.

Thank God it’s the weekend and she can actually try to relax a bit these next two days, since her last few weeks have been full of work and Blake taking over her nightly dreams.

She’s even looking forward to Anne’s birthday party on Sunday, her brother’s girlfriend.

Two soft knocks on the kitchen wall suddenly get her attention, his goofy grin the first thing she sees underneath the crappy kitchen light.

“You gotta be kidding me.” She whispers, yet loud enough for him to hear.

“We gotta stop meeting like this.” He says playfully, his bed-head suggesting he’d either been sleeping as well or doing something else that could’ve completely dishevelled his hair.

“We gotta stop meeting at _all_.” She responds, not even sorry about the frustrated tone of her voice.

Somehow she can’t escape him, not even in her own house in the middle of the night. It’s becoming ridiculous if she does say so herself.

“I’m just here for a glass of water. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” He moves past her and she can’t help but sigh, shoulders slagging.

“Blake.” She whispers softly, surprising herself at how fragile it sounds. He looks at her, surprised. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be such an ass to you.”

He smiles, filling his glass but setting it aside on the counter instead of gulping it down immediately, like she had done earlier.

“No hard feelings.” He says. “Though, I _am_ wondering what’s going on in that head of yours that makes you feel so wound up all the time.”

She exhales deeply. “You don’t even want to know.”

“Chelsea told me you’re under a lot of stress at work.” He tells her, carefully. “I don’t know a lot about fashion like you said before, but I do know a thing or two about running a business.”

Her brows raise. “What do you mean?”

“My dad used to co-own a publishing company in Nashville. He was in the business of writing songs for other country artist and signing other songwriters to work for us.”

“I didn’t know that.” Gwen says softly.

“We didn’t get to talk about a whole lot yet.” He shrugs. “He retired and I’m the one who took over for him. I write a little bit myself, but I’m mostly running the ship over there. Trying to find talent, making sure we hit deadlines, staying in touch with record labels.”

“So, you’re running the company from here?” She asks, suddenly nervous. “Are you leaving for Nashville anytime soon?”

He smiles at her gently. “Not leaving anytime soon. The office building is located in Nashville, but I can do my work from basically anywhere. As long as I go back there every once in a while, to check in with our staff, keep them informed on my business ventures. It’s a lot more administrative work than people think, just because they hear the word _music_.”

“So you know a thing or two about drowning in paperwork?” He hums in agreement. “Do you also happen to know a thing or two about difficult colleagues who just told you to your face that the only way you got to where you are is because you slept with the boss?”

Blake’s eyes widen, his hand leaning on the counter.

“I can’t say I do. Gwen…that’s…. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.”

She sighs, shaking her head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with my troubles.”

“You’re not. You’re just opening up to me.”

She smiles, allowing herself to close her eyes for a second, realizing how exhausted her body and mind are. When she stares back at him, he’s still looking, shooting her an emphatic look.

“Thank you for not being an ass to me. I would’ve deserved it, you know?”

His smile turns into a full-fletch grin.

“Nah, I’m not really into that type of thing.”

“Cause you’re just so sweet?”

“No.” He responds, pointedly. “Because I can tell me being nice to you makes you _way_ more uncomfortable than me being an ass would.”

She laughs softly, grabbing her glass as she starts to walk away. As she passes him, she pokes a finger into his chest in a playfully scolding way.

“You’re crazy.”

In a surprising move, he catches her wrist in his hand, looking at her. Her heart skips a beat, her head lifting to meet his gaze again.

He looks her directly into her eyes and she knows immediately that she’s walking on a tightrope, sure about her landing if she falls being a hard one.

Still, she can’t help but stare at his mouth, and before she even knows what’s happening, it’s _on_ hers. His lips brushing hers softly as his hand is still curled around her wrist. It’s soft and gentle, and _too_ good.

She gasps, pulling away after a few blissful seconds.

She steps back, trying to catch her breath, just staring at him shock. Then a few seconds later, she’s on him again and his hands are shoving her back till her hips hit the counter.

Her hands are greedy for him, pushing and pulling, his body crashing into her without any preamble. She knew he’d be good at this, but she didn’t know how empty it would leave her at the same time. She could have _this_ , but never more. In her weak moment, she settles for it though.

His tongue traces her lips, slipping into her mouth, wet and aggressive. She twines her arms around his neck, her chest pressing flush against his while his lower body drives harder into her. It sends a low growl through his chest that vibrates against her. Her skin is buzzing and her blood is fizzing uncontrollably and… _holy shit._

The wetness between her legs only increases and her mind flashes to the dream she had earlier, the one that made her get out of bed, the one that got her here with him in the first place.

Their mouths part with a _pop_ and she’s using her hands to push him away suddenly. Her mouth is still agape, his own lips parted as he runs a hand over his face.

“Gwen, I’m sorry. I— “

She inhales a shaky breath, touching her lips with her fingers.

He looks as confused and shocked as she is, and it’s the first time she’s seen him visibly affected by her.

“This can’t happen again.” She whispers.

 _“I know_.” He breathes.

The throbbing between her legs continue, and she feels the guilt everywhere, some of it dripping down her thighs as a heavy and uncomfortable reminder.

“We made a mistake.” She murmurs, feeling her eyes well up. “I’m tired and I had a shit day and you were helping me and— “

“Gwen, you don’t have to explain anything.”

“Chelsea is my _best_ _friend_.” She emphasizes, feeling a lone tear slip down her cheek. “She can never know about this, Blake. This won’t ever happen again.”

If the circumstances were different, she might’ve felt bad about making Blake live with a secret like this, but she can’t and she won’t lose her friend over such a terrible mistake.

He nods. “Trust me, I know that. We messed up and it won’t happen again.”

“Chelsea doesn’t deserve this.” She says, whisking her tears away as she makes another move to walk away from him.

“Gwen?”

She stills at the sound of her name, head rising at his voice, her body falling back against the doorway. “ _What_?”

“Even superheroes have bad days.” He reminds her gently. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time. People mess up.”

She swallows roughly, biting her lip, and she hates how she can still taste Blake on them.

“Not like this.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unruly curls.

It seems as if they’re both reeling, unable to explain what just happened, but knowing that it shouldn’t have felt the way it did.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you— “

“Please.” She cuts him off, wincing. “Don’t say that out loud.”

His eyes widen. “I can’t even say the _word_?”

“No.” She says, louder this time, her head turning a few times to see if they’re still alone. She feels like the worst person for sneaking around like this and she can feel the self-hatred swallowing her up whole. “We can’t ever speak about this again, okay? It’s worse enough that it happened, let’s not draw any more attention to it.”

Something in his eyes flickers, a certain emotion she can’t pinpoint.

“Okay, Gwen.” He sighs, giving up. “We won’t speak of it again.”

She nods, trying to get her raging heartbeat under control.

Her eyes are wet and her thighs grow clammy. Life is playing many tricks on her, both professionally and privately, and she’s not sure how much more she can take before she gives into all her weaknesses.

“Gwen, at least let me say this…” He starts softy, taking a small step towards her which has her backing up against the wall. He stops walking when he realizes she’s trying to create distance, respecting her obvious wish. “I didn’t do what I did because you had a shit day. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of how you were feeling.”

She swallows roughly, not sure what she expected to come out of his mouth just now, but realizing it wasn’t this.

“Then why?” She whispers, softly.

His jaw twitches. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m not sure about many things right now.”

Gwen shakes her head, not satisfied with that answer.

“You have to be, Blake. You can’t _not_ be sure about her, you can’t…”

“You think I don’t know that?” He snaps, inhaling deeply. “Listen, I really like Chelsea and I don’t want to hurt her. That’s why I know this can’t ever happen again and it won’t. But I also won’t stand here in front of you, pretending like I felt absolutely _nothing_ just now.”

“Stop.” She insists, lips parting. “Stop it. Just don't.”

“I’m not saying— “

“It doesn’t matter _what_ you’re saying.” She interrupts, placing her glass on the counter in a few steady strides before purposefully taking the other side of the kitchen island to walk away from him. “The only reason I did what I did is because I felt sad and shitty and you were nice to me. It meant nothing and if you have any common sense, you don’t try to look for any other meaning behind it. It was a mistake and you should be glad to realize it. You have everything and more waiting upstairs for you.”

_Don’t waste your time on a broken girl like me._

The words go unsaid, but the look in his eyes as she leaves the kitchen and heads upstairs, are enough proof that she’s not the only one who thinks it.


	5. Before the fall

The room is loud, her brother’s arm wrapping around her being a nice distraction from the chaos going on in front of her.

“Thank you for coming.”

She smiles up at him, her brother who’s only a few years older than her, has a large smirk on his face as he looks at Anne and Chelsea losing themselves in a game of intense cards. The two guys overlooking the game are cheering and hollering when Chelsea makes a move that indicates she either won or is very close to winning. Blake is standing behind her, squeezing her shoulders, obviously excited about the game as well.

She tears her eyes away.

“How could I not?” She asks, leaning into Todd. “It’s Anne’s birthday.”

“That’s the only reason?” He smirks.

“You know I love seeing you.”

Her and Todd have always been close. So much so that when he first left the city to accept a job in Manhattan, she spent the first few weeks crying in her bed about it. It didn’t matter that she was in college, living in a dorm with Chelsea, forty minutes away from where and he Anne lived together. Forty minutes were suddenly turning into six _hours_ and it devastated her.

It had hurt when he got let go and she knows Todd is still coming to terms with that job not becoming a success, but selfishly she’s glad to have him back in LA. At least for the time being.

“It’s good to see you again, too.” He speaks sweetly, nudging her. “You up for a game of pool?”

It’s still the most Todd-like thing to spent his first paycheck of his new job on a pool table, and she shakes her head in silent laughter.

“No, but I’ll watch _you_ play it if you want.”

“Buzzkill.” He murmurs playfully, tapping her arm before walking over to the large table.

One of his friends is already putting the sixteen balls in the triangular rack, positioning them at the lower end of the table.

“Hold my drink, will you?” Todd asks her with a smile, and she complies.

She watches as he helps getting the table in order, waving over Anne who looks like she just got her ass handed to her. When the tall girl arrives at the table, she squeezes Gwen’s arm and leans into her.

“Chelsea plays a mean deck of cards. Did you know she was that competitive?”

“We’re talking about _Chelsea_.” Gwen emphasizes. “She basically invented the word _competition_.”

Anne smiles. “I could’ve used a warning.”

“No complaining to my best friend.” Chelsea’s loud voice cuts in, shaking Anne a little from behind. “I won and that’s that.”

Her brother’s girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re here now to kick our ass at another game.”

Chelsea’s eyes twinkle.

“ _Exactly_.”

“Easy, tiger.” Blake chimes in, pulling his girlfriend to him and shooting Anne a friendly look. “You can’t give her too much credit; all the praise goes straight to her head.”

Todd immediately notices Blake’s presence and her brother’s facial expression turn from excited to ecstatic. It’s no surprise to Gwen how Blake managed to weave his way into everyone’s hearts in less than a few weeks, their whole group of friends having accepted him as an unmistakable part of it.

If Gwen wasn’t trying her hardest—and succeeding largely—at avoiding him in these last few weeks, she would’ve been happy about it.

“You’re up for a game of pool, man?”

Blake nods, his hand holding Chelsea’s. “Sure am. Teams or solo?”

He asks the question to Todd, but ends up looking down at his girlfriend. Chelsea smiles and runs a hand up his chest, cupping his jaw.

“I don’t think I can be in a team with you without getting distracted.”

Blake snorts. “You’re just saying that cause you’re scared I suck and you don’t want to lose.”

She stands up on her tip-toes, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me see how you play first.”

“How about I play with Todd.” Anne says, walking up to her boyfriend, sliding an arm around his back. “And Blake and Gwen can be the opposing team.”

Gwen nearly spits out her drink, eyes widening. “Oh no, I’m not playing….”

“Come on.” Chelsea pushes suddenly, clapping her hands excitedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play pool before. Kick their asses. Do it for me.”

Gwen knows what she’s really doing, knows that her friend is still a bit unsure about her feelings towards Blake and sees this is a great bonding opportunity. Gwen feels the guilt gnawing at her chest, the kiss from a week and a half ago still clawing at her insides.

“If she doesn’t want to, let’s not push her.” Blake says, though his words don’t sound very convincing.

She ends up glaring at him briefly, before shaking her head.

“Fine, I’ll play.”

She doesn’t know what makes her say it. It’s probably a mixture of feeling like a buzzkill, like her brother playfully called her before and being sick and tired of being the one to miss out on having fun.

Blake’s the one who joined this group last. She’ll be damned if she’ll let herself get pushed out so fucking easily.

“Everyone clear on the rules?” Todd asks, grabbing the two pool sticks from against the table and handing one of them out to Blake.

“Hit the cue ball and try to get the others potted without eight-ball following suit.” Blake responds, walking around the other side of the table. “I think we can manage this.”

Anne nods, excitedly. “Let’s just do one round. The first team to get all the designated balls in their pockets wins, no exceptions.”

When the game first starts, it’s actually pretty easy not to get too close. They all take turns, standing back when their teammate’s turn is up. The people surrounding the table just watching, are enough distraction to not have to engage in too much contact with Blake. It’s not until the game nears its end, an intensified level of concentration needed and tips from your partner preferable, that their streak of not talking suddenly ends.

“Try to hit that one.” Blake points out, finger pointed at the yellow one.

Gwen squints her eyes, bending slightly at the waist as she angles the cue stick. Her tongue gets trapped between her teeth, her concentration faltering when she takes her shot and ends up scattering the wrong ones.

She grunts, shaking her head. “ _How_?”

“You guys are _so_ losing.” Chelsea exclaims, laughing. “Blake, do something.”

Gwen stands aside as she hands the pool stick over to Blake once more, hoping he can somehow salvage what she’s managed to screw up.

She reaches for Chelsea’s glass, making a gimme-motion with her fingers and smiles in gratitude when her friend offers her a few sips of her drink. Gwen lets the alcohol glide down her throat, hearing herself make a celebratory noise when Blake makes a few promising hits.

“Do we have a chance now?” She squeals, not sure if she can even recognize her own voice.

It’s been a long time since she’s genuinely had fun, Chelsea’s arms securely around her feeling like icing on the cake.

“He totally saved your ass just now.” She says playfully, biting her lip while obviously checking out her boyfriend at the pool table.

Gwen lets her eyes go a similar route, unable to miss how good he looks.

She’s spent so much time ignoring him recently, that now his eyes rake over her like fire again, she’s helpless to feel anything but warmth burning her skin. And in this dress she loves to wear, she suddenly feels naked; all bare shoulders and exposed skin under his eager gaze. For a second it’s like that first time they met. That familiar energy between them. She hadn’t realized how fiercely she missed it.

She’s distracted by it for a few moments until he’s suddenly in front of her, pushing the stick back in her hands.

“We’re in the homestretch now, darling.” He reminds her. “You better bring it home.”

Though it’s just a game, she suddenly feels nervous, taking her time at the table. Her eyes go over the few remaining balls in front of her, her competitive edge coming out now she’s under the scrutiny of her whole group of friends.

“I’m gonna mess up.” She whines, taking her position and bending her back slightly, eyes focused on the target. She tries to keep her aim steady but her concentration breaks, and she finds herself straightening back up again. “I don’t see it.”

“Here.” Blake’s voice is suddenly much closer, appearing next to her. “May I?”

She realizes his gaze is going to her hip, and as it’s dawning on her what he’s asking, she only has half a brain when she complies.

His hand on her hip makes her tense, but it’s only for a moment as he taps her arm and readjusts the way she’s holding the cue stick. Her fingers tighten around the wood, her breath hitching ever so slightly when his hand on her hip pulls her backwards.

She knows nothing about this moment is supposed to be sexual—hell, his girlfriend is literally watching them from a few feet away—she knows what this is, but she can’t help her brain from running wild, her skin heating up beneath her clothes.

He touches her arm with his finger, bending down slightly to speak against her ear.

“Stretch your arm and focus your gaze on the target, not the stick.”

She swallows roughly, nodding to show she’s listening. She’s pretty sure using her words wouldn’t do anything as her throat feels uncomfortably tight.

“Don’t overthink it. You see the ball you gotta hit?”

Her eyes focus on eight-ball, hoping she can hole the yellow one right behind it. She nods again, biting her lip in concentration.

“Good.” Blake praises her lowly. “Now hit it.”

She doesn’t think, she just does, and with a loud and definitive _thud_ , she pots the yellow ball, having it disappear into the table.

Her mouth opens as Blake’s hands are now completely off her, his voice booming as he celebrates their win.

“Oh my God…” She says, turning around to face him. “Oh my GOD!”

She doesn’t even think when she walks into his arms, hugging him tightly against her chest.

“We won.” She says, somehow feeling like she just won gold in the Olympics. The feeling is so overwhelming in her chest, she can’t help but giggle excessively.

Perhaps the few drinks of tonight are starting to show its effect.

She pulls away in time for Chelsea to walk up to her and shake her. “Bitch, you suddenly have a talent for pool now too?” She scoffs. “Leave some for the rest of us, will you?”

Gwen smiles, biting her lip. “I would’ve lost if it wasn’t for Blake.”

Chelsea beams at that, throwing her arms around his neck next.

“Thank you for saving my best friend and being like totally hot while doing it.” She speaks up to him, plastering herself against him.

He looks down at her as if he won the lottery and Gwen knows that he did.

Chelsea has a quality about her that very few men have been able to resist. Not just men either, Chelsea has been popular with _everyone_ for as long as Gwen can remember. She’s fun, energetic, and able to turn any situation around.

Gwen admires her, always has.

“Gwen, hey!”

She looks up, confused and a bit disoriented as her brother stands in front of her. “Did you hear a single word I just said?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” She asks, biting her lip in embarrassment.

“I _said_ , do you want to step outside and get some fresh air?”

The question is a bit of an odd one, but she can’t deny that the prospect of some fresh air is not an unwelcome one at all. She nods, smiling when Todd hooks his arm with hers.

The night air is cold, but not to the point where it’s uncomfortable, and she inhales deeply. Stars light the sky like tiny snowflakes, reminding her of old photographs and postcards, as it fills her with warmth.

Todd is silent for a few moments, lighting a cigarette while watching her stargaze from his porch.

“You look good tonight.” He observes. “Happy.”

She lets the words linger in the air for a while, pondering over them. She wouldn’t go as far as to say she’s genuinely happy, but she’s carefree tonight, and that’s something she hasn’t felt in years.

“I feel pretty good.” She replies.

He hangs back against the stoney exterior of his rented house, looking up at the same sky Gwen’s admiring.

“I have some news to tell you.”

Gwen looks at him, drawing a bit closer. “What is it?”

He inhales a puff of nicotine before blowing the smoke out through his parted lips.

“Anne and I are back to looking at places in New York. I have a job offer that isn’t definitive yet, but it looks promising.”

Her heart plummets at his words. No matter how hard she tries to be happy for him, she can’t wrap her mind around the fact that he might be leaving her _again_.

“I thought you liked what you’re doing now.” She counters, voice breathy.

“I do, but it’s nothing like what I had before.” He says. “Gwen, opportunities are so much better for me in New York. Not only could I get free videography courses alongside my job, I’d be able to work for a legit film organisation.”

“You live in _LA_.” Gwen emphasizes. “This is literally _the_ city to be in when you want to work in film and arts. Why don’t you stay here?”

“Because…” He sighs. “LA might be the place to be for artists, but they’re pretentious too. Look at what they have me doing now; basically come up with some graphic design for influencers to use in their Instagram posts. That’s not me.”

“Then look for something else.” She argues. “ _Here_.”

He closes his eyes, inhaling another puff of smoke in his lungs.

Gwen winces. “You already made up your mind, didn’t you?”

“If I get the job, I’m taking it.” He affirms.

Gwen looks away from him, up at the stars again.

Her life had consisted of saying goodbye to people, and never on her terms. They were both young when they suddenly lost their mother in a car accident, one moment kissing her goodbye as her parents went out for their date night, to the next being woken by their grandparents to tell them their mom wouldn’t be coming back.

Todd had dealt with it differently; he’d spent his teenage years rebelling and then found Jesus—and Anne—and managed to turn it all around. He got a degree in videography and graphic design and became obsessed with leaving California behind.

Gwen had focused all her energy into school; finishing high school and then college. She never gave herself time to rest or to slow down and truly _feel_. She never rebelled, she didn’t act out, she did what she was expected to do and found gratification in that. Though she left home with her dad in Anaheim and traded it in for a dorm room with Chelsea, she never had the urge to leave this state.

“Gwen, will you say something?”

She shrugs, taking a few steps towards the patio steps. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re leaving and I have absolutely no say in it.”

“I’m saying I _might_ leave.” He corrects her, stepping forward to meet her at the steps. “And even if I do, that doesn’t mean I’m leaving _you_.”

“God, I’m just so sick and tired of everyone just packing up their shit and leaving...” She says, running a frustrated hand through her hair and taking a few involuntarily steps to the right. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with just—“ Before she even gets to finish her sentence, she feels her ankle twist painfully, her balance quickly lost.

Todd reaches out to steady her, keeping her from hitting the ground.

“ _Fuck_.” She hisses, leaning all her weight on Todd as her foot is unable to keep her up.

“Shit, you okay Gwen?”

He pulls her into him, giving her time to catch her breath. She keeps her foot lifted, flashes of pain shooting up her leg.

“Great, of course.” She mumbles under her breath, tears filling her eyes.

“Come on. Let’s go inside and put some ice on it.”

She lets Todd lead her back to the front door, his arm sliding around her back as she limps besides him. She’s grateful for his strong arm keeping her up mostly, as every step sends a searing pain through her foot.

As they walk into the kitchen, Blake’s tall frame has his back turned to them as he’s helping himself to another bottle of beer from the fridge.

“Blake man, good you’re here. Can I get your help?” Todd asks before Gwen can stop him, her eyes closing in defeat.

Blake looks behind him, his features immediately turning into a worried expression as his eyes land on Gwen.

“What the hell happened?”

“She twisted her ankle pretty badly.” Todd responds. “We should probably ice it.”

“Honestly, I’m fine. It’s just—” Her weak rebuttal gets immediately cut off, Todd’s gaze on her strict.

“Just sit down here and take your heels off.” He instructs her, tapping the kitchen stool.

Gwen rolls her eyes but complies, bending down slowly to take the straps of her heels off. She hisses when her fingers make contact with her ankle, a soft sigh of relief following when she gets the shoe completely off.

“Where’s the ice?” Blake asks while digging through the contents of Todd’s freezer.

Her brother walks up to him, tapping his shoulder to indicate he needs to step away. She watches him move some items around before retrieving the large pack of ice cubes.

Blake takes the time to walk over to where she’s sitting, his hand softly touching her shoulder. “You okay?”

She nods, squirming her shoulder away from his touch.

“Fine.” She grits out, the pain having totally sobered her up.

She can’t be around him any longer and she definitely can’t have him touch her any more. She’s embarrassed to admit how effected she is by the way he held her earlier during their game of pool, and she can still feel his hands on her hips, _guiding_ her.

It makes her think of other scenarios where he could possibly have his hands there, guiding her movements in some other ways.

“Here, put this on your ankle.” Todd says, handing her the ice, oblivious to the tension between her and Blake. “I’m gonna go find Anne, I promised not to leave her side for too long.”

Gwen smiles sadly, her chest still torn about the news Todd informed her about a few moments earlier.

“Sure.”

Blake lingers behind, his arm leaning on the kitchen island. He stares at her, but doesn’t speak, and she knows her sudden mood-change is confusing him.

“Gwen— “

“Please go be with Chelsea.” She cuts him off, unable to look at him and staring a hole through the floor. “I’m fine.”

“Ever since that night, you’ve been avoiding me…” He says softly, sighing. “Gwen, I don’t want this to hang over us all this time. I care about you and I know you care about Chelsea. You were the one who told me we’d never speak of this again. I thought you wanted to move on from this?”

 _Like nothing happened_ , goes unsaid, but she hears it.

“We have.” She whispers, wincing when her fingers press the ice more prominently against her foot. “I’m just working through some things on my own, it’s how I like to process.”

“You have people here who truly care about you.” He says, silence following his sincere words. “You don’t have to do it all alone. I just thought I should tell you that.”

Gwen swallows roughly, wishing like hell she could take him up on that, but she knows that opening herself up to Blake leads to _too_ much.

She can’t have him a _little bit_ , because it makes her want him _completely_. So she will have to settle for nothing at all.

“Thanks.” She says quietly, biting her lip. “But I’m fine here, Blake. Honestly. Go enjoy yourself and the party.”

He nods and though she can tell he’s reluctant, he doesn’t seem to mind all that much when Chelsea finds him walking out of the kitchen, heading straight for his arms.


	6. My Valentine’s gone and broke my wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrote a large portion of this chapter while listening to Fluorescent, quite possibly one of her saddest songs lyrically. We’re getting down to the heavier stuff, learning more about these two conflicted souls. I hope you enjoy ❤️

Last year, she spent this day crying on the couch on her friend’s lap, after she found out her then boyfriend slept with his ex. It had been one of the many reckless and selfish things he’d done in the course of their relationship, but it also proved to be the last. 

Gwen finally had enough of coming in second, third, _fourth_ …

If she had to be lonely, she’d rather be lonely by herself than tethered to someone else.

This year, she’s laying on the couch again, but she’s not crying. In the contrary, she’s actually quite enjoying the solitude.

The television is playing a bunch of romcoms back to back to celebrate the ever so commercial Valentine’s Day, while Chelsea and Blake are out for dinner somewhere.

The blanket is draped over her body, a warm glass of tea plastered between her palms. The night is still young, but she’s glad to say the day is almost over with for her. Work is still rough, her colleagues continue to dislike her, and being picked for this project by Jonathan himself, doesn’t mean he suddenly treats her any better.

Gwen knows that it might be time to seriously consider Chelsea’s earlier words; they _do_ take her for granted inside the firm and it’s only a matter of time before she’ll have to say goodbye to them too.

She tries to focus on the movie that’s playing on the screen, but the lack of lighting in the room and the dark evening sky outside, are causing her to doze off a bit. Every so often, she’s brought back to earth by a loud noise from the TV, each time realizing she’s missed a good portion of the film. She doesn’t care though; it’s relaxing and easy, and it’s _exactly_ what she needs.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been repeating that cycle for tonight when she hears the front door open and close loudly, Chelsea’s loud voice and Blake’s shushing one easy to make out.

“Shhh, baby, come on…” Blake sounds soft and patient, his voice almost enough to make Gwen doze off again; so gentle and comforting, even when he’s not speaking to her at all. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

“I love you.” Chelsea slurs, the words still hitting Gwen some type of way.

Her friend had been all too eager to tell her about the new development that happened a few weeks ago, a silent date night prompting her to speak those three words to him out of the blue. Blake’s reaction seemed to have been to repeat the sentiment quickly, and everything that happened next, Gwen is trying to actively block out of her brain.

“Love you too, baby.” Blake coos, their footsteps going up the stairs. “Lean on me, you little boozer.”

Gwen closes her eyes again, chuckling to herself. Leave it to Chelsea to get black out drunk on Valentine’s, probably regretting it like hell the next morning.

Gwen pushes herself up in a sitting position again, grabbing the remote control as she turns up the volume as she’s just in time for another movie to start.

Her eyes are focused on the figures on the screen so much, she almost misses the one appearing in the doorway about ten minutes later. 

Blake’s gaze lands on her a bit sheepishly and she can tell he’s hesitant about joining her. It’s a stark contrast of how he usually acts around her, and she credits it to today being Valentine’s. She decides to have some mercy on him, too tired for anything else and something about Blake’s gaze makes her want to appease him. 

“She passed out?” 

Blake rubs the back of his neck. “Like a light.”

Gwen giggles. “Leave it to her to get drunk on Valentine’s Day.” She shakes her head. “Where did you guys even go? I thought it was just gonna be dinner.”

“It was supposed to be.” He answers, walking into the living room as he’s obviously feeling more comfortable now he knows she’s not ignoring or avoiding him tonight. “But the restaurant turned out to have a bar and you know Chelsea couldn’t resists.”

“How was it though?”

“Great.” Blake responds, honestly. “We’re doing good.”

“That’s good.” Gwen says, biting her lip at realizing there’s a certain glow around him due to the dim lighting here. “You wanna sit and watch a movie?” 

Blake turns his gaze to the television and then chuckles. 

“Hallmark?”

Gwen shrugs. “I can’t help every brand known to man has turned this day into a commercial cash grab.”

“Fair.” He tells her. “Let me grab a beer and I’ll be right back.”

She smiles and waits for him to make his return into the living room. 

Gwen retracts her legs until her knees are up in the air, giving Blake some space to sit down. There’s still a respectable amount of distance between them like this, making her feel justified in asking him to stay and watch some tv with her. 

He plops down in the space she created, his arm resting on the back of the couch. With his other hand, he skilfully unscrews the top off the bottle, chugging some of it back and licking his lips, causing Gwen to subconsciously lick her own.

“How was work?” Blake asks her, obviously more interested in her company than he is in the movie playing. 

“It’s what it is.” She replies.

“They’re still mad at you for getting the lead on that project?”

Gwen hums. “Basically. They’re always mad about something. Even Jonathan.”

“Your boss?”

She nods. “Maybe they know I’m just using them as a step-up stone. They’re nice to have on your resume but I’m not interested in staying there a second longer than I have to.”

“Serves them right.” Blake says, placing the bottle of beer against his lips again. “Sorry to say it, but Chels is right. They don’t deserve you over there.”

“She’s right a lot more than I’m willing to admit.” Gwen chuckles. 

“Tell me about it.” Blake grins, profusely. “That girl’s spidey senses are alert and _activated_.”

Gwen can’t help but grin.

“What'd you do?" Gwen asks, raising her eyebrow at him.

He smiles. "Why do you think _I_ did something?”

“Because of the way you just said that.” 

“Hmmm, so what I’m hearing is that you think whatever happened was _my_ fault?"

"It's always your fault.” She says, smirking at him.

“She helped me out with a work issue of my own.” Blake smiles, finishing the rest of his beer. “I didn’t trust her instincts but she made me promise I’d follow her lead on this one. I did, she ended up being right about it all, fixed the issue and never let me live it down.”

“That’s Chelsea for you.”

“Somehow that girl just _knows_ stuff.” Blake chuckles. “Even when you wonder how she possibly could.”

“She’s much smarter than people often give her credit for, just cause she’s the party girl.” Gwen admits. “It’s why people find it so easy to let her lead the pack. She keeps it all together and isn’t afraid to take risks. Like a trendsetter, she figures things out first and everyone else follows later.”

Blake frowns, then smirks. 

“Like a _trendsetter_ , huh? Guess you really can’t take the fashion mogul out of the girl.”

She decides to have some fun and push the narrative harder.

“She's like the girl in seventh grade who gets the new shoes you wanted the day before _you_ were gonna go to the store to get them, and of course you can't go get them _now_ because then everyone will think you got them just to be like her. But really, you just want the fucking shoes." 

Blake laughs and the sound fills her with so much joy, she wants to rewind sixty seconds so she can say it again. 

"Are you sure Chelsea and I were the only ones who’ve been drinking tonight?"

"Positive.” She says. “How many have _you_ had?”

He smirks. "I've knocked back a few."

“Are you drunk?” She continues to tease. “Is that why you suddenly decided you wanted to spent some time with me?”

“Not even buzzed.” He replies, his tone serious all of the sudden. 

As if to proof his point, he taps her feet before pulling them into his legs, starting to massage her calves. It sends a warm chill down her spine and a fire in her brain; one that feels impossible to extinguish.

And yet, while it darkens her gaze, he manages to make it feel strangely _friendly_. 

“How’s your ankle now?” He asks, looking at her. 

She swallows.

“Better. Barely even feel it anymore.”

It had been over a week since she’d twisted it at her brother’s house, and it turned out to hurt like a bitch for some days after, even though they iced it immediately.

“You know...” He murmurs. “You never told me what happened that night. Something did, right?”

She moans softly in appreciation when he presses at the accumulation of tension in her heel, closing her eyes due to the mortification. 

Blake doesn’t even seem to care; he just continues his movements and presses her on the question again. 

“We had a nice night, you seemed to be enjoying yourself and all the sudden— “

“— My brother told me he might be leaving LA again soon for a job opportunity in New York.” She cuts him off, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry for being distant with you after that. I just... it hurts me when people leave. I’d rather be the first one to go. I’m like that with everyone.”

Blake’s fingers still at her ankle. 

“Even with me?”

“Everyone leaves at some point.”

“You know, if I didn’t hear the way you said that just now, I would’ve assumed the thought of me leaving would’ve been a nice one for you.”

Gwen closes her eyes, his fingers still softly digging into the skin around her ankles, and she can’t help but wish this moment would never end. Even if it makes her want to run.

“You gotta understand, this is complicated for me.”

He attempts at a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace.

“It’s not exactly easy for me either. But you’re Chelsea’s best friend and that means I kinda want your approval, as juvenile as that might sound.”

His words surprise her, the effect they have on her heart even more so. It’s both a relief and a slap in the face to hear him say that.

He wants her approval because of Chelsea, not _despite_ of. And while she should be grateful that’s the kind of man he is, selfishly, she wishes for so much more.

“You do.” She whispers, opening her eyes. “I’m happy for her; I tell her that all the time. You’re a good man.”

Blake smiles at her, holding her gaze. “That means a lot to me.”

“We’re missing the movie.” She whispers softly, finding herself in a moment that’s too intimate, too painful.

“I don’t care.” He counters, confidently. “This is way more important.”

She swallows roughly. “Blake…”

“You said everyone leaves.” He says, reminding her of her earlier words and making her realize quickly that he’s not about to let it go. “What did you mean by that?”

She knows if he asks the right questions, pries just enough, she might just tell him _everything_ and that scares her more than anything.

“People aren’t permanent.” She says, shaking her head. “We don’t have to talk about this now, it’s Valentine’s Day for God’s sake.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair for you to decide that I’m leaving, just like that?”

“I don’t mean it like that.” She says softly, not wanting to argue. “I mean that everybody leaves, whether they want to or not. Life brought you here, but it will lead you away again, too. Maybe not without Chelsea, but certainly without…” She lets her words trail off, not sure if she really wants to go there right now.

“Without you?” He finishes for her, his gaze steady on her face.

She tenses against him, tempted to pull her feet off his lap. She doesn’t, though.

“It’s not even about you.” She says, and it’s only partially a lie. “It’s about my brother, and Chels, and my job and every other person I’ve ever known in my life. It’s just…” She sighs, closing her eyes again as she feels herself getting embarrassed. “Please, let’s just drop it. The last thing I want is for you to think I’m some sort of broken mess.”

“I would never think that.” He responds, quietly.

She smiles painfully.

“Yes, you would.”

He stares at her for several seconds, giving her feet an encouraging squeeze.

“Why don’t you try me.”

She finally succeeds in pulling her feet back, sitting up straighter and hugging her knees. Blake let’s go of her, resting his arm on the back of the couch again.

“I’ve always felt like that.” She whispers, unable to look at him, the doped-up love movie still playing in the background. “It’s hard for me to let people in. I’m not like Chelsea.”

“Why is it so hard for you, Gwen?”

His words are so soft, she thinks if he just speaks to her long enough, he could heal her. He could be the balm she needs to finally tend to some of these scars. She thinks being with him, even if it were for just one night, could bring her peace in ways she’s never known before.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” She breathes, biting her lip.

“I promise you, I won’t think that.”

She realizes how easy it is for her to believe him, how close she feels to him right now even though they’re a respectable distance apart. She knows she shouldn’t tell him, since it will only make her feel _more_ for him, but she can’t keep her mouth from spilling the truth.

“My mother died when I was nine.” She whispers, the words taking the breath out of her lungs for a few seconds. She hasn’t said the words out loud in so long, she wasn’t even sure if she still could. “Car accident.”

A soft and empathic sigh escapes his lips, his head shaking.

“Gwen, I’m so sorry.”

“Sixteen years ago today.” She says softly, playing with the hem of her shirt in an attempt to distract herself from the pain in her chest. “My parents were going out on a date for Valentine’s and my grandma came over to babysit Todd and I, giving my parents some time away from home. I had a fight with my mother that morning, so when she came to kiss me goodbye, I barely even looked at her. Later that night, my grandma sat on my bed with a tear-stained face, telling me she’d never come home again.”

Her voice breaks at the last of that sentence, a lone tear falling from her eye.

“Sweetheart…”

“I don’t even remember what the fight was about.” Gwen whispers, hoarsely. “That’s how unimportant it was. And I made it the last thing I ever said to her. The last memory I have of her.”

“You were nine years old, Gwen.” Blake tells her, softly. “And you couldn’t have known that would’ve been the last time…”

“But it was.” She whispers, unable to bite back a sob. “It was and I miss her.”

“Of course you do.”

Her breath hitches, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, come here.” He says, reaching his arm out until he’s able to tug at her hand, her body complying easily as he manoeuvres her across the couch, into his arms. Her knees are practically in his lap, while her head’s on his shoulders, his arm wrapped around her.

Her chest is still aching, her eyes wet, but the way Blake’s thumb wipes away some of those tears is lifting a considerable amount of weight off her shoulders.

“I told you I’m a mess.” She whispers, unable to lift her head off him.

“For missing your mom?” He retorts. “That doesn’t make you a mess. That makes you human.”

She looks up at him, the scruff around his jaw a little bit more defined and the look in his eyes one of sincere sympathy, her words obviously affecting him too.

“You look tired.” She murmurs, reaching out to trace the line of his cheek, as she blames her emotional state for being so reckless.

“You sure know how to boost a guy’s ego.” He shoots back, an attempt at humour and she can’t help but chuckle a little, even through her grief. “I’m not that tired. I just hate to see you hurting.”

Another tear falls then, followed by another, and she tries to capture them with her finger. They come too quickly though and she can’t keep up.

“Let it out.” He murmurs against the side of her head. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He wraps his arm even tighter around her, melding their bodies together while one of his hands rubs soothing circles against her hair.

She doesn’t remember the last time she cried like this, and in the back of her mind she’s worried about waking up Chelsea, but she can’t keep her noises down. Her sobs and sniffles are loud in the room and she presses her head tightly against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat something that can be felt against her cheek.

“I lost my mom a few years ago, too.” Blake says softly, his hand still gently caressing her hair, keeping her pressed against his chest. “Cancer. She found out about her brain tumour one day, and three weeks later we were arranging her funeral.”

Gwen stutters out a broken breath, closing her eyes as she inhales the scent of Blake’s t-shirt. His heady cologne makes her want to crawl up even closer, though she’s pretty sure that’s humanly impossible.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” He whispers, swallowing roughly. “I was angry when we buried her. I couldn’t believe it took only three weeks for the disease to wipe out her existence from this Earth.”

The words are enough to cause a few more tears to stream down her cheeks, eyes burning.

“I was mad at _her_ , too.” Blake admits, his voice growing softer. “I was mad that she didn’t fight harder, that she didn’t stay around. I thought it was selfish, and I know how fucked up that sounds, but it’s true. It’s how I felt for a while.”

Gwen shudders. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized I could either be an asshole and stay mad at the fact she didn’t make it out alive, or I could be grateful that she got spared that long and gruesome fight. I should be grateful that it happened this quickly, because I love her and I don’t want to see her in pain.”

“But my mom didn’t die from a disease, Blake.” She whispers, strained. “She got hit by another car and died on the spot. It _was_ fast, but that doesn’t make it any better.”

“I’m not saying it makes it better.” He responds, his thumb softly rubbing her cheek. “But your mom came to say goodbye to you despite the fight y’all had, because she loved you and she knew you loved her. You can stay mad at yourself for not being the nicest when she came to see you, or you could be grateful she knew you loved her anyway.”

Gwen sighs, completely melting against him as she feels the fight drain out of her body.

“Do you think I’m a horrible person?” She murmurs against the fabric of his shirt.

“I think you’re a beautiful person.”

She snorts. “Oh, please.”

“Please, _what_?” Blake retorts, pointedly. “I mean it. I think you’re a beautiful person, with a big heart. I think you care too much about what other people think sometimes and you work too hard for people who don’t deserve you, but you’re also incredibly determined and talented. And from how much Chelsea loves you, I can tell you’re immensely loyal too.”

She finally looks up at him again, her eyes glossy.

“This has got to be the most depressing Valentine’s ever.” She whispers, a breathy laugh escaping her throat. “And yet, I’m enjoying myself a lot more than I thought I would tonight.”

He bites his lip. “In that case, let’s make it a little less depressing.”

Her brow raises. “What do you have in mind?”

“One last thing before we go to bed tonight…” He responds cryptically, motioning for her to get off the couch.

She’s still a little dazed when she follows him, giggling at the realization that she’s following him around as if it’s not _her_ house they’re currently walking in. She frowns when he leads her into the kitchen, both hands leaning on the kitchen island as he looks at her.

“Chelsea told me something tonight that I just can’t quite believe…” Blake smiles, cocking his head at her.

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, _yes_.” Blake smirks. “When were you gonna tell me that you make the most delicious gin and tonic of all LA?”

“Everyone can make a gin and tonic, Blake.” She rolls her eyes. “All you need is some gin and guess what? _Tonic_.”

Blake takes a few steps towards the fridge, grabbing the bottle half-empty bottle of Gin and bottle of tonic out. He places both items on the kitchen counter, waggling his brows.

“Come on, then.” He smirks. “Show me.”

Gwen sighs, pushing her tongue against the back of her teeth.

“This is how you want to spend the last few minutes before we go to bed?” She asks, biting back a smile. “Really?”

“I wanna see what all the fuzz is about.” He says, shrugging. “I mean, the more I learn about you, the more I start to believe you’re keeping the fun parts from me. And you said it yourself, this night needed to be made less depressing…what better way to do that than with some alcohol?”

“Are you sure we should be drinking together?” She asks, next. “Considering our…. well, you know?”

His gaze on her is incredibly distracting, his smile even more so.

“Are you saying you don’t have any self-control and you’re just too blinded by my undeniable charm?”

Just like that, she feels a little bit more confident in her abilities to control herself, her hands grabbing the bottle away from his side of the counter.

She rolls her eyes. “You are terrible. I’m gonna tell Chels she needs to do a better job at taming you.”

Blake snorts. “I’m in a relationship with _Chelsea_ , and you think _I’m_ the one who needs taming?”

Gwen laughs, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet above her head and bypassing Blake’s frame to reach for the freezer. She grabs a few ice cubes and lets them clatter inside the glasses, delicately pouring a double shot of gin over them.

“You give her a serious run for her money.” Gwen smiles, stirring around the edge of the glass gently.

Blake continues to stare at her, focusing on her ministrations.

“That statement would work better if she wasn’t currently passed out in her bed.”

Gwen adds the tonic, stirring it again before sliding one of the glasses over to Blake.

“If you hate it, I’m unfriending you.”

Blake laughs.

“I’m just glad you admitted that we’re friends now.”

“Just shut up and drink.”

Somehow they end up on the same side of the island, chucking back their drinks a little too fast, their elbows nearly touching as they set their glasses down in front of them.

“It’s pretty good.” Blake admits, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips, savouring the taste on them, and the sight makes her weak in the knees.

“Told you.” She says, trying to hide how affected she is by him in this moment.

“Technically, Chelsea told me.”

“Is it really that hard for you to give into me, just once?” She chuckles.

She realizes the wording of that phrase, her throat suddenly drying. For a second, everything becomes even more palpable; the scent of his cologne, his proximity, his elbow softly touching hers, his gaze on the side of her face.

“Alright.” He drawls, nodding. “You’ve got me, Gwen. That was a damn good drink. You told me and you were right. How’s that for giving in?”

_Not enough. Not nearly enough._

“That works.” She croaks out, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I’m glad.” He smiles, and it drives her insane how incredibly _together_ he is all the time. He doesn’t appear to be as flustered and pulled apart by her presence in the way she is by his. It makes it both easier to be around him and harder. “I’m also glad we spent this time together tonight, Gwen. I wasn’t ready to call it a night yet when Chels did.”

She swallows roughly, forcing a smile on her face.

“I’m glad we had this time, too.”

She’s surprised when he pulls her in for a hug, his arms strong around her. Before she can even start to panic and pull away, she’s wrapping her own arms around his waist, basking in the closeness.

One of his hands lands on her shoulder, the weight of his palm involuntarily dragging a bit of fabric with it, causing her band-tee to slide just enough for his finger to brush bare skin. She’s quite literally hot at the feel of his hands on her flesh, unable to help the desperate way she’s biting her own bottom lip.

Her breath stutters out almost disappointedly when she feels him starting to pull back, but it’s the dark look in his eyes that makes the flutter in her chest damn near impossible to ignore.

There’s a flicker of darkness, of heat, and she suddenly knows why he had to step away.

“Goodnight, Gwen.”

She swallows roughly, using her hand to slide the fabric diligently back up her shoulder.

“Goodnight.”

She finds herself alone in the kitchen, chest heaving, cheeks flushed and her body shuddering with arousal and frustration. Her hand smooths through her hair, eyes looking up at the ceiling. This Valentine’s Day has definitely been the most confusing one, but she can’t deny it’s been one of the more meaningful ones too.

The look in Blake’s eyes just now had caused a huge surge of adrenaline and relief to crash into her. He’s a good man, and he proved it by pulling away. But the look had also proved that what she was feeling wasn’t all in her head. There _was_ something there.

She doesn’t know what the hell to do with that, but there _is_ relief. And huge frustration.


End file.
